Beneath The Surface
by staymagical
Summary: Morgana has disappeared while taking a solo cruise to Alaska (Yes, Alaska. Why the hell anyone would want to take a cruise there of all places, Arthur hasn't the slightest clue). Her disappearance is quickly labeled as an accidental man overboard and then a suicide and the case closed. But Arthur knows better. After exhausting all avenues and getting no answers, Arthur decides to
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is my submission for the After Camlann Big Bang Challenge 2017! And its the reason Compromising Position hasn't been updated in quite some time (I am so so sorry)

Well as usual, I'm late. I don't know why I expected not to be. First off, thank you to the mods for another great ACBB! Even though I stress and lament and get frustrated, I still love doing this challenge. I wouldn't get any stories written full out if I didn't (clearly as I still have ones I need to update...). And thank you to chocobo_lu for your lovely art. We have both been insanely busy for the past few months and are still struggling to get things done so those lovely pieces will be posted later. You are so talented and it was a pleasure to work with you. Last but not least, thank you to p3rfectlyn0rmalx for beta-ing and all your support and cheering and listening to me complain.

Of course, I own none of these characters, but please, enjoy this anyway :)

* * *

Los Angeles, California, USA

The rumors were not exaggerations. Los Angeles was always sunny, to the point of annoyance.

Granted, Arthur had been in the city for just a little over a week but he had yet to see a single cloud in the endless blue sky. Nor a reprieve from the heat. How anyone could enjoy such a place let alone want to live here was beyond him. It was too artificial for his taste. He quite enjoyed the gloomy cloud cover and seemingly never-ending showers in his beloved London.

Arthur wiped the sweat off his brow before stepping off the dock and onto the red carpeted metal gangway. A breeze blew off the ocean, bringing the smell of salt and teasing Arthur's hair upright. It felt glorious on his heated skin, the perfect balance of sun-kissed warmth and cooled ocean breeze. He paused briefly on the gangway, basking, trying to soak up as much of the seemingly artificial sun and heat as Los Angeles had to offer, despite it's annoying qualities. He expected to get very little in the coming weeks.

But that mattered little in the scheme of things. He wasn't here to enjoy himself.

A smiling cheerful crew member greeted Arthur as he stepped onto the spotless wooden outer deck of the ship, her white uniform stark and bright even in the shade of the ship.

"Welcome aboard the Grandeur, sir," she said, showing her teeth in a beaming smile. "May I see your ticket and cruise card please?"

Arthur handed over his ticket and the cruise card he had been issued just minutes before. Cruises were a strange affair. He had only ever been on one other cruise before and though it had been somewhat enjoyable—and warmer than this one was expected to be—he prefered vacationing on land. Moreso now. He would never have set foot on another cruise ship if circumstances hadn't forced his hand.

The crew member held his card up to a scanner just to the right of the entry way into the body of the ship. It gave a single beep, the light on top turning briefly green before she handed the card back to him with a nod and another smile. "You will need to carry your cruise card with you at all times aboard the ship. It is your key into your room and you can use it to purchase specialty items like alcohol and souvenirs anywhere on the ship. You will also need to scan it before you disembark and as you return to the ship at ports."

Arthur just gave her a brief nod, no longer really listening to her speech. He knew the logistics to keeping track of passengers aboard cruise ships. He had been learning all about it, studying the ins and outs, gleaning all he could about the Carnival cruise lines inner workings and how things could go so horribly wrong. Why they had.

And how they could claim no responsibility for any of it.

"You are in an ocean view suite, 1003," the crew member said as she looked over his ticket. "Your stateroom is located on the Panorama deck, deck ten, all the way at the fore toward the bow." She gestured to the right and up as she handed him back his ticket. "Unfortunately, your room is not quite ready yet but it should be ready for you by the time we disembark at 1800 hours. Your bags will meet you there." She gave him a disarming smile before gesturing toward the inside of the ship. "In the meantime, there's a band playing on the Lido deck and the lounges and bars are open on the Promenade, Lido, and Atlantic decks. We hope you enjoy the voyage and welcome aboard."

"I doubt I will," Arthur muttered to himself, giving her a nod and a half-hearted smile in thanks.

He bypassed the photography station just inside the open double doors where a family of four posed in front of the ship's safety ring, all big smiles as another crewmember snapped their picture. Arthur couldn't help but wonder if Morgana had had her picture taken, then almost laughed at the mental image. She would have scoffed at the notion and strode passed it in her four inch heels. Part of Arthur wished she had stopped and taken a picture, if only so he could find it. He wanted something, any piece or sign of her to be onboard this ship. Something he could take back with him once the voyage was over. Even if it was just a corny tourist picture with a prop life ring.

The space opened up into a grand atrium spanning up three decks. Mirrored ceilings trimmed in gold and silver gleamed above, reflecting the glossy dark marble flooring. Black subway tiles overlaid with metal and wood detailing made up the walls and balconies. Plush red L-shaped sofas and chairs dotted the space, complimenting the red cushions on the stools around the curved bar to the right side of the lobby. Large expansive staircases lined in matching black subway tiles rose up above the bar, while the glass backs of the lifts rode their cables on the opposite side of the atrium.

Everything shone and gleamed, lit bright to be inviting, and polished to perfection.

Arthur hated it immediately.

It was the exact sight that had greeted Morgana as she boarded the ship.

He headed straight down the hallway to his left toward the lifts, ignoring the shore excursions desk where a few couples and families had gathered already. Excited chatter from other guests rose and fell as he approached the lifts. He had hoped to board early enough to avoid the crowds, to have time to explore before the ship got more crowded. But it seemed as though many other guests had the same idea. Nearly every seat in the lobby had been claimed, and the bar was just as packed despite it being not even four yet.

He hopped in a lift with an elderly couple, and rode it up to the tenth floor. The crew member had said his cabin wasn't ready yet but maybe that was for the best. It meant it was being cleaned or would be cleaned soon. It meant he might be able to have a chat with his cabin steward and be able to jump-start his investigation. If he could locate his cabin steward, or any cabin steward, he could find out whether the man he was looking for was even still working on the ship. If he wasn't, well then this whole cruise would be nearly for naught. He might as well just walk back down to the dock and catch a taxi to the airport.

Fleur de lis carpet of muted reds and golds greeted him as he exited the lift onto the tenth floor and headed toward the bow of the ship. The hallway was empty, not a steward cart, or guest in sight. Arthur sighed. He would have to wait until tomorrow or search for a cabin steward elsewhere it seemed.

His stateroom was at the end of the hallway, one of the more luxurious and prized suites onboard the ship. The price alone was evident enough of that but the view, he heard, was more than enough to make up for it. Morgana had gushed about it during several of her numerous calls to him as she took this very cruise. He hoped it lived up to her praise, if only so he could understand how she felt on those last few days when she looked out her windows.

Arthur swiped his card in the lock and opened the door. The room had been cleaned, that much was immediately obvious. The bathroom to the left was spotless, its glossy surfaces shining even more than the lobby. Blue carpet led him into the main room which opened up to a decent sized space. A king size bed lay at angle, its dark wood headboard flush against the wall of the bathroom while a dark yellow sofa took up the rest of the wall's expanse. Two armchairs and a small matching dark wood desk sat opposite the bed.

But the true opulence in the cabin was the large windows that made up the wall beside the desk. It gave him a nearly 180 degree view off the bow, the city of Los Angeles spreading out before him until in met the open ocean beyond. The view would be stunning once they departed, he had no doubt. Morgana had not been exaggerating.

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. This is where she had stayed, where she had slept, where she had lived the last time anyone ever saw her. She was the reason he was here at all, on a cruise he didn't want to be on. It was his fault, after all. He hadn't even tried to stop her from coming.

" _Did father send you over to talk me out of this?" Morgana accused, hands on hips as she glared at him from across her room. Arthur sat down on her bed, shifting her open and half-filled suitcase over to make room for himself._

" _No" Yes, but Arthur would have come on his own if he had known earlier. He just happened to hear about her trip and listen to father rant all in the same phone call. He quickly changed the subject. "Alaska?"_

 _Even with her back turned to him across the room, Arthur could tell Morgana was rolling her eyes. "Yes."_

" _Morgana you do realize cruises are supposed to be fun right? Swimming, lounging in the sun, visiting beaches and exotic places?" Why anyone would willing choose to take a cruise through glaciers and icebergs was beyond him. Had no one learned from the Titanic? He had seen the movie, that hadn't looked fun._

" _Alaska is exotic," Morgana said. She strode over to her closet and pulled out a few more pieces. All long sleeve, all cold weather gear. "Have you ever seen a glacier up close? Heard it?"_

" _Heard it? No, why would I ever want to? It's a big slab of ice. Not much to it, is there. Besides, if I wanted to see a glacier, I'd go to the arctic. For a day, maybe two if I'm particularly self-loathing. Not a two week cruise."_

" _This is much more accessible."Morgana took the clothes off their hangers and rolled them, before packing them neatly into the suitcase next to Arthur. "I need the time to clear my head."_

 _Arthur's teasing vanished."Are you having second thoughts?"_

 _Morgana shook her head, a small smile on her face."No, not at all. I just want to take one last trip of independence before…"_

" _Before you are forever shackled to Leon, dragging around that ball and chain?" Arthur said with a chuckle. Morgana rolled her eyes, striding once more toward her closet. "It's more the other way around, you know."_

 _Morgana glared at him as she emerged, but her eyes shone. "I love him, I'm marrying him, and I do not regret saying yes one second. I just want to taste freedom one last time before the start of this..." she waved her hand through the air, ...forever."_

 _Arthur sighed. "I would probably do the same thing, in all honesty."_

 _Morgana smiled, folding up her winter jacket and laying it neatly in the suitcase._

" _But really, Alaksa?"_

He had to admit now, a trip to a cold, underrated, unappreciated part of the world was just the sort vacation Morgana would take. It was just like her to go off the beaten path and do something unexpected, rebel against the norm. She had been doing it her whole life.

It was only suiting that she would be rebelling at the end too.

A part of him still held onto the hope that Morgana would be found alive and well but he knew the chances were slim. He had talked to numerous people who had lost family members, loved ones, or friends while cruising and very few were ever recovered or found. Most still remained on the ever growing missing person's list.

This trip, a retracing of Morgana's final days was Arthur's last resort.

The click of the door unlocking broke Arthur out of his stupor. He jumped to his feet and faced the door just as a curly-haired brunette man entered the room carrying Arthur's suitcase. He froze upon noticing Arthur.

"Oh, good afternoon sir!" the young man said, quickly composing himself. He set down Arthur's suitcase by the bed and straightened up. "I apologize for barging in like that. I didn't think anyone would be in here."

"It's fine," Arthur said, brushing away the man's words.

The young man smiled awkwardly, his hands fiddling at his sides. "My name is Gili, by the way and welcome aboard."

"Are you the cabin steward?" Arthur asked as the young man turned to leave.

Gili turned back to face Arthur. "Oh no sir. I'm just the porter. But if you need something, I can call your cabin steward to take care of it."

Arthur nodded to himself, scrutinizing Gili's eager expression, wondering if he could push him so soon. Ah, hell, he never cared much for proprietary anyway.

"What's the steward's name?" Arthur asked.

Gili hesitated a beat before answering, "Merlin, sir. He'd be happy to assist you with whatever you need, I'm sure." He nodded as though assuring himself that he was doing the right thing.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He was here. He was still working aboard the ship, still serving the same staterooms as well. It looked like luck was on Arthur's side after all.

"Yes, I'll be needing some extra towels and blankets," Arthur said, asking for the first thing that popped into his head. Anything to bring this Merlin here.

"Yes, sir, I'll relay the message." Gili said, nodding his head as he flashed Arthur a smile.

It wasn't until Gili had left and closed the door behind him that Arthur noticed the artfully shaped towel animal, rolled and folded to resemble that of a hunched rabbit.

* * *

 **A/N Fun fact:** I've been on an Alaskan cruise similar to this one (different cruiseline, slightly different itinerary) and it is as beautiful as Morgana says. Cold as f**k but beautiful.

Also probably never going to go on another cruise again after diving deep into research on them and all the things that is wrong with them and can and have gone wrong in general. Just...nope


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin pumped the handle of the cleaner bottle, getting nothing but a few stray weak splatters for his efforts. He groaned, wiping off the droplets from the bathroom counter before tossing his rag into the sink and exiting the cabin.

"Hey Sefa, there any more bottles of cleaner on your cart?" He called, half-heartedly searching the drawers and cubbies on the cleaning cart.

Sefa poked her brunette head out of the adjacent cabin, a few strands of wavy locks falling out of her messy bun. She held up a cleaner bottle in her gloved hand and shook it teasingly. "I've got the last one," she said sticking her tongue out. She ducked back into the cabin before Merlin could find something to throw at her.

"Give it here for a moment," he said trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. "I've nearly finished in this one."

"Go get your own," Sefa's voice floated out from inside the cabin. "And grab a few vacuum bags while you are there. I'm out. Oh! And some more toilet paper and boxes of tissues."

Merlin glared at the empty doorway. "Fine, but you have to finish this cabin."

Silence followed for a moment before Sefa stuck her head back out. He held out his hand expectantly, knowing she wouldn't be able to resist the prospect of doing one less room.

"Here." She scowled as she handed over her bottle like it was some monumental favor she was doing him. "But I want my cart restocked when you are done. You finished my other bottle, it's only fair."

"Of course." He flashed her a fake smile before escaping back into the cabin he was cleaning. Honestly, he shouldn't even be helping her with her deck. He had other things he needed to do, last minute preparations before they disembarked. But Cenred had ordered him to and he couldn't just ignore the chief steward. Sefa was slow, lazy at best and almost always needed assistance finishing her assignments. It helped to be sleeping with the chief steward though. Less work, preferential treatment, and an inflated sense of self-importance. Not to mention the late night intimacy but Merlin did not think that was anything to be envious of. Not when it was with Cenred.

Merlin sprayed the mirror in the bathroom, distorting his reflection briefly as the smell of disinfectant and chemicals filled his nostrils. He ran his rag over the mirror in long strokes, clearing toothpaste splatters and who-knows-what the previous occupant had left behind. When it was spotless and clear, his own lean frame stared back at him, dark hair ruffled from the hard work he had put in this morning already. The start of a new voyage was always busy. Guests checking out, cabins needed to be deep cleaned and restocked, every deck to be spotless and glistening, not a thing out of place and everything in working order for the new batch of guests that arrive later that day. It was exhausting, around the clock work.

"Two months, just two more months. You can do it," he whispered as he stared at himself. Two months and then….what? He had no other job prospects, didn't have a degree or any notable skills. Where would he go? Back to the states to live out his life on the streets like before?

It didn't matter. He couldn't continue working here, he knew that. But he had to finish out his contract and leave on good terms. Otherwise he'd never get hired elsewhere.

"Sefa?" A voice called from down the corridor. Merlin wiped down the counter's surface, shaking his head to dispel the looming dark thoughts.

At Sefa's answering hum, the voice continued, "Hey Sefa, is Merlin here?" It sounded like Gili.

Merlin grabbed the cleaner and rag and exited the cabin. "Yes, I'm right here."

It was Gili, striding toward them in his white uniform, a trolley laden with suitcase and bags left abandoned at the far end of the corridor. "Hey, the guest in 1003 is asking for more towels and blankets."

"Already?" Merlin asked with disbelief. "We just started boarding a little over an hour ago." Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised at all. The tenth floor rooms he cared for were suites and luxury cabins reserved for the elite and high class. Granted, most people who could afford to go on a cruise were already considered of a higher class, but these were the snobbiest of the snobs, the richer of the rich.

It was a wonder why Merlin was assigned to their deck. He worked hard but he was sure his clumsiness more than made up for any notion of perfection.

Gili nodded. "Already. And he seemed impatient." Merlin nodded in understanding. Of course the guest was impatient. They all usually were. But at this moment, Merlin didn't mind. Anything to get out of assisting Sefa.

With a thinly veiled smirk, he wordlessly handed Sefa's cleaner bottle over to her and threw his rag into the soiled linens bag. "Alright, thanks Gili." He started down the corridor, giving Sefa a shrug as he headed toward the crew stairs, "Sorry, guess you're on your own."

He couldn't help but chuckle as he walked down the corridor, listening to Sefa trying to convince Gili to help her finish cleaning the cabins. Her voice faded as he rounded the corner and pushed through the 'crew only' door to the stairs.

Merlin approached the door to cabin 1003, neatly folded towels and fluffed blankets bundled in his arms. He shifted his bundle to free a hand before knocking thrice in quick succession on the door.

"Cabin Steward," he called.

Silence greeted him from the other side of the door. Good. Though he didn't mind interacting with guests, he prefered to get in and out without being seen or heard. It was less of a matter of courtesy and more of a fact that slapping on a smile and pretend everything was alright was exhausting.

The illusion was hard enough to maintain around his coworkers.

With another knock and announcement and the answering silence beyond the door, Merlin swiped his master key card through the lock and opened the door. The spacious room expanded before him, his eyes immediately drawn to the large windows and the Los Angeles skyline beyond. He had never been much of a fan of the city of angels, but he couldn't deny that with the sun kissing the tops of the far off buildings and setting the sky alight, it was a spectacular sight.

He strode slowly over the king bed, taking note of the indent in the sheets and bed runner where someone had sat at the foot. Setting the blankets and towels on the desk, he smoothed the sheets down until there was no evidence of imperfection. He picked up the extra linens from the desk.

"Are you Merlin?"

Merlin yelped, jumping at the sudden voice behind him. The towels and blankets went flying as he instinctively tried to whip around, heart in his throat. But his legs wouldn't cooperate, tangling up in themselves and letting gravity have its way with him. He narrowly missed decapitating himself on the corner of the desk. Instead, his head hit the carpet with a muffled thunk.

He lay stunned, sprawled out on the floor for a moment before the voice broke through the daze. "Shit, sorry I didn't mean to—"

"Scare me to death?!" Merlin asked, sitting up gingerly as he rubbed the back of his head. It was sore where it had met the floor, would probably bruise, but he had had worse. He'd survive.

A hand entered his vision, startling Merlin again. He looked up. A man leaned over him, his hair a tousled blonde mop framing a strong face and jaw. Merlin's gaze locked onto a pair of captivating light blue eyes, dancing with part concern, part mirth.

Merlin's heart skipped a beat, but for an entirely different reason.

"Okay, yes I realize how this looks but I can explain," the man said. He nodded to his hand as though reminding Merlin it was there and he should take it. He looked young, in his mid twenties, perhaps just a bit older than Merlin himself if he was to guess. Fit, definitely fit. But the crew were strictly and absolutely forbidden to fraternize with guests. Not that Merlin thought he had any chance in hell with this man.

Merlin ignored the man's hand and pushed himself to his feet. He wavered, vertigo sweeping through him and trying to pull him back down. The man steadied him with a hand on his elbow.

"Are you alright?" The blonde asked, the concern definitely in place now.

Merlin gave the man a sidelong glance. "Yeah, peachy," he said with a hint of annoyance, stepping out of the man's hold to gather up the spilled linens. "How do you know my name?"

It was uncommon for guests to know their cabin steward's name, but not unheard of—a certain dark haired woman came to mind first but he refused to think about her. But it was absolutely unheard of for them to know it before they had even met the steward. Cabin stewards were supposed to work behind the scenes, their handiwork seen more than they themselves were. Most guests saw the stewards as nothing more than servants, slaves if you were lucky enough to get particularly pompous assholes or those who favored their drink.

The man sat on the edge of the bed, the one Merlin had just straightened, and watched him fold the linens again. "Merlin? You were mentioned in an article."

Merlin stiffened, dropping the towel he had just retrieved from the floor as his heart skipped a beat. He quickly scrambled to pick it up again, hoping the man couldn't see that his hands were now shaking.

"Oh?" Merlin asked, trying to appear nonchalant, focusing on setting the linens just right on the bed. "What article?"

"The one by NBC news. About the woman who went missing during the Alaskan cruise two months ago."

Damn NBC news for mentioning him by name. He had received enough backlash from his superiors not to mention the cruise line itself. He had nearly been fired because they thought he talked to the press. And now it seemed this man had tracked him down. Not only that but he had booked a room that he served, on the same voyage plan that the incident occurred on.

The last time someone had tracked him down over the incident, more than just his job had been threatened.

Merlin gave up the pretense of folding and faced the man. His senses were on high alert and he wanted nothing more than to get out of that room. He had kept his head down and his mouth shut, just like they all wanted. No more questions, no more snooping, nothing. So why was this man here? Was this a test?

Slowly, Merlin took a step toward the door without turning from the man.

"There are hundreds of cabins aboard this cruise ship. How did you know I served this one?" He asked, not bothering to keep the suspicion from his tone.

The pain in the man's eyes caused Merlin to pause in his subtle retreat, nearly forgetting the reason he was so on edge. "I took a chance," the blonde said. "Figured you would still be assigned to the same room my sister stayed in."

Merlin's mind reeled. No, it...it couldn't be. He assumed she had to have family, but he hadn't ever learned anything about her. Not before she disappeared at least.

"You're Morgana's brother, aren't you?" he asked.

If the man noticed the slight tremble in Merlin's voice, he didn't show it. He just nodded, a few strands of blonde hair falling across his forehead with the movement. "Half-brother. Arthur Pendragon." He stood up and offered his hand in greeting.

Merlin ignored the offer but didn't bother to continue his retreat, feeling less threatened by the man—Arthur—but not enough to fully trust he meant no harm. "What...what do you want?"

"I need your help finding out what happened to her." Arthur's face hardened into a look of determination as his eyes pleaded with Merlin.

Merlin was already shaking his head before Arthur had gotten the last word out. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

As much as it pulled at Merlin's heart to see the pain in Arthur's eyes, as much as he wanted to reassure him, to help him in any way he could, he couldn't. He barely knew the man. Hell, he had barely known Morgana. It was a tragic event, that was all it was and none of his business. He had to remember that. Keep his head down and his nose out of it until his contract was up.

"Please." Arthur stood, taking a step toward Merlin. "I know you were the one who noticed her missing. I know you tried to find out what happened. I just need to know what you found."

Merlin shook his head, vigorously. "Nothing. There was nothing to find. She jumped overboard. It was ruled a suicide. There's nothing more to find out."

Liar.

The words tasted like ash in his mouth but he kept his face a mask of sincerity, trying to convey to Arthur a truthfulness he didn't feel.

Now it was Arthur's turn to shake his head, anger and pain warring for dominance in his features. "That's not...she was happy," he said, pleading like he was trying to convince not only Merlin but himself as well. He threw up his hands when Merlin didn't make any move. "She had just gotten engaged for crying out loud! She never drank more than her limit, never lost control of her inhibitions, nothing! She was smart, smarter than anyone I know. She would never….harm herself. She wouldn't! I refuse to believe it."

The hardness was back in Arthur's eyes, his brow set in determination. Merlin hated having to keep lying to him, knowing it would chip away at that strong conviction in his sister's sanity.

"I am sorry. I truly am. But I…I don't know anything more. Please just...please." Drop it, let it go. There was more at stake than Arthur could ever know.

Arthur glared for a beat longer before a blank mask fell over his face. "Fine. I'm sorry to have disturbed you." He waved him away, turning toward the ocean windows. It was a clear dismissal, one that pulled at Merlin's desire to help. He wanted to scream at him, to tell Arthur what he knew, what he had heard and seen. He wanted to reassure Arthur that he was on the right track and to not give up. But he couldn't. He just….couldn't. The threat had felt real enough and he didn't have the courage to test it nor gamble with Arthur's life as well.

He just hoped his words had been enough to convince the man to give up.

But Merlin could tell from the hard set of Arthur's shoulders that the man had not believed him for one second. His determination and conviction had not wavered. Merlin hesitated for a second longer, before shaking his head and retreating out into the corridor.

* * *

 **A/N Fun fact:** Cabin Steward is just a fancy cruise name for housekeeper or cleaning person. And on board a cruise, it works the same as in a hotel. They come by and clean your room while you are away having fun on the ship or exploring the different ports.

Also, I have zero knowledge about the behind the scenes and what its like to work on a cruise ship. And there isn't much to be found online, especially for someone in Merlin's position. So I apologize if something isn't accurate in that respect.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur's mind was in turmoil. He was so convinced that there was foul play involved, so determined that the answers lay with the cabin steward who had searched tirelessly for answers to Morgana's disappearance, that it felt like a blow to the stomach to hear otherwise. And from the very cabin steward he had so much faith in. He had heard what the man had done, read about it in the papers, listened to it on the news. Merlin's name was only mentioned once or twice, but he knew it was him every time a cabin steward was mentioned in relation to his sister's disappearance.

He had expected more from the man. Instead his hopes had been dashed upon the rocks.

Arthur picked up the fresh linens Merlin had left and threw them across the room with a yell. The rabbit towel animal followed soon after and the perfectly made bed sheets next. By the time his anger ran its course, half the room was in shambles, chairs overturned, mints, pillows, and bed sheets on the floor by the stateroom door. For a minute Arthur just stood there glaring at the mess he had made, breathing shallow and fast.

He sat heavily down on the edge of the now bare bed, burying his face in his hands. He didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it. Morgana would never intentionally hurt herself. He knew her, knew her better than he knew himself. It couldn't be it just couldn't be!

There had to be something.

The slowly burning out rage hardened in his heart, turning into unbreakable determination. Merlin was wrong. He didn't see what had happened, he wasn't there. All he did was discover her missing so what could he possibly know?

Nothing.

Arthur took a deep breath, then another in an effort to calm himself down. It wasn't over, he had to remember that. There were plenty of other crew aboard the ship who were employed at the time of Morgana's disappearance. He could ask around, see what they knew, what they had seen or heard. Merlin wasn't the only crew member that had stayed on, he was sure of it.

With a plan in mind, Arthur ran a hand through his hair and took one last deep breath before getting to his feet. He took a look around the torn up room and felt a twinge of satisfaction—and guilt but he studiously ignored that bit—knowing Merlin would be the one who would have to straighten it up. Good.

With that, he strode out the door.

* * *

The crew was scarce, especially by the time the ship had disembarked. Arthur had managed to corner the porter he had mistaken for his steward earlier that day but the boy—Gili—had been hired starting the voyage after Morgana's disappearance. Dead end.

By the end of the day, Arthur hadn't gotten any further. The man behind the front desk claimed to have heard nothing of any disappearance—liar—and girl behind the buffet counter said she wasn't allowed to discuss the matter before disappearing into the kitchen.

Though he did feel a glint of satisfaction at seeing his stateroom set right again when he returned for the night. He had after all requested a cleaning to a passing steward a few floors down knowing exactly who that task would fall to. Good.

Arthur wasn't sure if it was just the subject of his questions or if there was something more at play, but Merlin wasn't the only one who seemed wary, hesitant to say anything about the incident. The cruise line must have ordered them not to mention it or talk about it in order not to scare or frighten the guests. He could understand that. But his gut was telling him that it wasn't the case. There was something going on amongst the crew, something they all knew to keep their noses out of.

It was frustrating to say the least and as Arthur settled into bed that night, gentle hum of the ship lulling him off to sleep, he knew he had his work cut out for him. The subtle causal questions he had asked, playing to part of general guest with a morbid curiosity wasn't going to get him far. He had to push harder.

"Arnold Palmer," he said to the bartender as he slid neatly onto the bar stool in front of the Robusto Bar on the Atlantic Deck. An attractive man of medium height nodded from behind the bar, dark hair curling around his ears. His blue eyes sparkled, but there was a coldness to them that Arthur found both intriguing and repelling. He reminded him a bit of Merlin, but where this man's features bespoke of grooming and hard work, Merlin's had a more natural casual beauty that made him more alluring.

And where the hell had that come from? Arthur mentally shook his head, dispelling the thoughts in favor of reminding himself that Merlin had shown no interest at all in being in his presence. Not that it mattered if he did. Arthur was here to find out what happened to Morgana not bed the first man he was keen on.

He focused back on Mordred, watching as he turned around to mix the drink together despite the early morning hours. It was barely ten and yet Arthur wasn't the only patron at the bar.

Normally he wouldn't be drinking at all, and never this early in the morning but he couldn't very well grill the bartender without having ordered a drink from the man. This was after all the deck Morgana had supposedly fallen from and the very bar she had been seen having a drink at just before she disappeared.

Arthur scrutinized the bartender. The articles and his various research hadn't mentioned who had been working the bar that night, and hell why would they? He wondered if this young man had been there, if he had served her her drink, if he had seen anything. Perhaps, or maybe he just knew who had.

His drink was placed in front of him and Arthur handed over his key card to the young man. "What's it like working on a cruise ship?" he asked, trying to break the ice a bit before getting to the heart of the matter.

The young man gave him a wane smile as he swiped the card through his machine. "It's just like working any other bar. Except we are open all day and most of the night."

"Oh, really?" Arthur feigned interest. He leaned on the counter, trying to act as casual as possible despite the nerves fluttering through his stomach. He glanced at the young man's name tag, taking note. Mordred. He hadn't heard the name mentioned before but then again, no bartenders had been mentioned by name anywhere. "How late are you guys open?"

Mordred moved away to whip up a drink for an older gentleman a few eats down the bar. "Until about five am," he said, filling a shot and dumping its contents into an ice-ladened glass.

"And people stay out drinking that long?" Arthur knew they did, but he kept up the ignorant facade. If he seemed to eager, too informed, the bartender wouldn't say anything  
Mordred smirked, and Arthur couldn't help feel a spark of attraction at the look shot his way. "This is a cruise. The whole ship is one big party," the bartender laughed.

"But isn't that dangerous?" Arthur asked, shaking his head. Then he took a chance, diving into the subject he wanted, hoping he had warmed Mordred up enough to escape suspicion. "I heard a woman fell overboard a few months ago."

The young man tensed, and Arthur's heart plummeted feeling his chance slip away. But Mordred kept his smile, though now forced. "It was a terrible accident," he said.

Arthur pressed on. "Did you see it happen?"

Mordred shook his head, taking a rag and wiping down his work area below the bar's counter. "I was working that night. Served her even, but didn't see anything."

"Nothing seemed off?"

"No," Mordred answered, his tone clipped and drawn. Arthur was pushing his luck, he knew it but he was getting something from the young man and there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity pass him by. "She was stumbling a bit as she left but that's nothing unusual here. Guests enjoy their drink onboard, sometimes a bit too much."

Morgana hadn't. She always knew her limit and never reached it. She had one drink that night, Arthur had seen her bill. He had demanded to see all the receipts and paperwork documenting her time on board the ship. One drink shouldn't have inhibited her even a little.

Mordred should have known that, having served her after all. He would know that she had only one drink, that it was merely a simple Manhattan, not enough to get her hammered. So even though alcohol hadn't been at play in her disappearance, that didn't mean that there wasn't something else in her drink. Had someone drugged her.

This wasn't the first time Arthur had thought this. He knew date-rape drugs were not to be messed with and knew that quite a number of men utilized them to get what they wanted. From his research and many conversations with other cruise victims and their loved ones, he knew that rape and sexual assault were a common practice on board. It was a frightening experience to dig beneath the surface of luxury cruises and find the dirt and filth gathering there. He would have never known had Morgana not disappeared.

"Had she been drugged?"

"I don't know." Mordred's tone was final, angry even and Arthur knew he had pushed too far. He wasn't going to get any more information from the young man. His suspicions were confirmed when Mordred excused himself and went to the far side of the bar to fill an order. And he stayed over there until Arthur finished his drink and left.

Arthur had no plan after the bar. He had expected to meet one of the other various bartenders who manned the bar, not necessarily the one who had been working that night. Without having to take the time to track the man down and having extracted all he knew he could, Arthur didn't know what to do.

Guests were milling about in the lobby, the large red couches all occupied with families and couples enjoying their first full day at sea. Arthur made his way through them, exiting out onto the wooden outer deck. Cool sea air hit his face as he exited, salt tickling his nose and dancing across his skin. He breathed it in, enjoying the change in temperature from the Los Angeles heat.

Arthur sighed, strolling over to the edge of the deck and resting his hands on the wood-topped railing. The cloud-dusted blue sky shone over the sparkling sea, creating a feeling of joy and peace that Arthur couldn't reach. Was this where it happened? Was this where she fell? What was going through her head? Was she in fear for her life or was she at peace before she toppled over the edge? If she toppled over the edge that is.

Arthur turned back toward the ship. He scanned the white metal walls that made up the outside of the ship, searching. There. A camera, pointed in his general direction, and another a little further along aimed at another section of the deck. He glanced up and down the outer deck, taking note of all the cameras. This area seemed well monitored for an outsiders point of view but the only way to know for sure was from inside the security office. If they even still had the tapes and records from that night. And there was no way they would let a passenger see them. Beside, chance are those tapes were taken in as evidence or filed away and there was no longer any record of them aboard the ship.

But someone who had seen them might be.

He needed to find the security personnel who monitored the cameras, or better yet, the head of security on board. They must have seen the tapes, must have witnessed the replay of her fall overboard. Arthur nodded to himself, mind made up. He had to find out who was the head of security first. It was a delicate matter, he knew that. He couldn't just go up and ask for security without immediately raising alarms and suspicions. Hopefully he could finagle a name out of someone and he could talk to them in a much more roundabout discreet way.

First, he needed to go grab his recorder from his cabin. He had been in such a tizzy this morning with nerves and determination that he had forgotten to grab his recorder. He wanted to have audio documentation of all the investigating he did. Just in case someone said something and he needed proof.

Arthur turned to go back inside, bypassing the bar and making his way to the lifts that would take him up to his floor.

Of course he wouldn't have any evidence to support what Mordred said earlier and he was trying hard not to kick himself for it. The bartender from that night had already been on his tentative suspect list, and now after having talked to him, he had carved himself out a permanent spot. If Morgana had indeed been drugged that night, which Arthur suspected she had, Mordred had the perfect opportunity.  
But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to keep an open mind and not put all his money behind one horse. He might miss the potential of the real winner if he did that.

The lift chimed as it reached the tenth floor and Arthur exited after a young couple chatting away happily about the french toast served in one of the dining rooms. Arthur's stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast, having completely forgotten to eat this morning. Now that his nerves had calmed down a bit, his stomach was more than happy to voice it displeasure at being ignored.

A steward's cart sat up against wall half-way between the lift and Arthur's stateroom at the end of the hall and Arthur groaned at his luck. Merlin was somewhere nearby. But the implications of that didn't fully register until the man himself popped out of the stateroom next to the cart, arms laden with rumbled towels and sheets. His sudden appearance made Arthur pause but Merlin carried on, having not noticed Arthur's approach yet. Arthur was still angry at the steward, though he knew it was irrational. Some part of his brain told him the man knew more than he was letting on. But he had no way of knowing whether that was the case. Either way, it didn't matter. He was done with Merlin. If the man wasn't willing to tell him anything more, then Arthur wasn't willing to waste his time.

No matter how attractive he might be.

Arthur continued on his way, passing by Merlin's cart, making sure to keep his gaze focused straight ahead and ignore the dark-haired steward. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin look up, words of a courtesy greeting on his lips before he recognized who it was. He swore he saw Merlin's face pale but dismissed it as nothing but a trick of the light.

After escaping into his room and stuffing his recorder into his pants pocket, Arthur peered out his peephole and watched until Merlin went back into the room he was cleaning. Like a thief, he slipped out of his room unseen.

It was childish and he felt foolish the second he dashed across to the corridor on the other side. But he couldn't help the anger that still parked in him at the sight of the other man coupled with the attraction he felt and, it was just better for them both to avoid all that. It was much too confusing.

Or so he told himself as he got onto the lift and made his way back down.

* * *

Arthur fell back onto his bed, even more frustrated than the night before. It was as if the entire crew had been coached, given a script and told to say nothing.

He had run into the cruise director, Gwaine, a model-type man with gorgeous locks of brown hair and a roguishly handsome face the match. The man had been chatty and charming, giving Arthur hope that perhaps he would be more loose-lipped than the others and tell him something. But even after a casual conversation, the second Arthur brought up Morgana's disappearance, the man clammed up.

"I'm sorry I'm not allowed to discuss that." Was all he would say. Arthur went as far as to jokingly say he had heard it was a murder, and yet Gwaine didn't even flinch, transforming from a friendly laid-back charmer, to a stiff formal employee, ensuring Arthur it was nothing but an accident and refusing to say anything more about it.

It was the same spiel he got from his waiter in the dining room, a shaggy man by the name of Cedric. Not allowed to discuss, tragic accident, blah blah blah. Arthur was getting sick of those words. Merlin had vomited the same script a few days ago.

Why did it all seem to come back to the skinny cabin steward? He seemed to be at the center of it all, the first to find Morgana missing, the first to dive into her disappearance, the first on board to tell Arthur he was mistaken—though that wasn't really his fault, he was just the first person Arthur had cornered. Arthur couldn't help but be angry at the man. Maybe he had something to do with Morgana's disappearance.

Arthur stared at the cabin ceiling, mind far away. As the first to notice she was missing, it made sense that Merlin could have been involved. Wasn't there a childish American saying, whoever smelt it, dealt it? If he wanted everyone to think he was innocent, what better way than to raise the alarm of her missing and dive into helping her be found?

But then why would he raise the alarm at all? The ship could have docked and passengers unloaded before anyone had discovered her missing. And by then it would have been much too late to find any sort of evidence or trail. Not that by the time Merlin took notice it wasn't already much too late. They hadn't found anything after all. Nothing crucial at least besides a drunks eye witness and whatever was on the security footage.

With a groan, Arthur rolled over, burying his face into the pillow. He screamed, the sound muffled amongst feathers and stuffing.

"Fuck, Morgana. Even when you aren't here you still have to make everything so difficult." Immediately he regretted the words. They sounded too much like speaking ill of the dead. He knew Morgana would be chuckling if she heard them, but he couldn't help but feel guilty.

He fell asleep imaging Morgana looking down at him and shaking her head in amusement.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** This story was inspired by a few true stories of guests and even some crew disappearing from cruise ships while at sea. So there are quite a few true facts and depictions that happen in this story.

Because I need things to be as accurate as possible even if no one will ever notice or know.


	4. Chapter 4

International Waters off the coast of Washington/Canada (Cruising day)

Merlin rode the service elevator down to the crew cabins. He was exhausted, as he usually was at the end of a sea day. Guests were stuck on board just as the crew was and therefore more rowdy and demanding in their services. He had lost track of the number of times he had run down to the linen room for more towels or blankets or various other necessities. Folding towel animals and setting mints, giving directions and taking requests, washing, scrubbing, scraping, and vacuuming. His arms ached and he was sure his bones creaked with every movement as though he were fifty years older. They say you get used to the hard work and labor and yes, Merlin was used to it, but on days like today, his body liked to remind him he was still only human.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors pushed open, spitting him out onto the hallway teeming with other crew members. Shift change was in full effect, those coming off their shift full of laughter and cheer, ready for a night of drinking, flirting, and dancing at the crew bar, while those heading out trudged through the hall, dragging their feet. Merlin weaved his way through, nodding in greeting to the few who acknowledged him and sidestepping those who glared. He wasn't the most popular person amongst the crew, not after what had happened. Most viewed him as a snitch of sorts, someone not to be trusted. The feeling was mutual.

"Merlin!" A familiar feminine voice called from the far end of the hall. Merlin looked toward it, seeing Gwen walking toward him, a bottle of beer in her hands. Her dark skin shone under the harsh lighting, almond eyes sparkling with joy beneath a cascade of long dark wavy hair. The soft floral dress she wore bounced with every step, flaring out at the waist and highlighting her curvy yet slim figure. If Merlin had been into girls, he would have chased Gwen to the ends of the earth. And well, if she hadn't been currently taken.

As though his thoughts had conjured him, Lance appeared behind Gwen, all tall dark and handsome. "You coming Merlin?"

"What?" Merlin stared at them confused for a beat before noticing the cheap cone party hat Lance was sporting. Right, it was….someone's birthday. He shook his head. "Oh no, I'm beat."

"Aw no, you have to come!" Gwen pouted. "It's Sefa's birthday. Come on, it'll be fun."

He seriously doubted that. Despite how much time he seemed to spend—unwillingly he might add—with Sefa, he didn't particularly like the girl. And he was almost positive she didn't like him much either. The only way she would notice he wasn't there was if she needed him to clean something up for her and sicked Cenred on him.

"I was hoping to just get some sleep," he said again, rubbing hi hand down his face in emphasis. A group of boys ran by then, party hats on their heads, shouting and blowing party blowers in people's faces as they passed. Merlin jumped as a blower unfurled in his face to poke on the cheek. He scowled after the retreating boys.

Lance was grinning at him when he glanced over. "You won't be sleeping through this Merlin. Come on, just one drink."

"There's cake," Gwen teased.

Gwen knew his weakness all too well. "I hate you," he said, trying to glare at the offensive woman. But Gwen just smiled innocently up at him and his glare quickly turned into a smile as she grabbed his arm and dragged him off down the hall toward the bar. The sound of rowdy voices and rhythmic beats increased in volume the closer they got until Merlin was swallowed up in the cadence that made up the darkened bar. Lights of various colors and shades danced along the walls and across swarming bodies to the rhythm of the music. Someone, Gwen or Lance shoved a beer in his hands and then he was ushered further into the bar.

"Is Gwaine here?" He asked, nearly shouting to be heard over the pounding music.

Gwen finished taking a draw from her beer before saying, "No, he's hosting the show tonight."

"Oh he's going to be insufferable tonight after having missed another party." Merlin laughed, imagining Gwaine's scrunched up face and frown after hearing of the night's festivities. The man was a born partier, ready for any sort of bash there was. It was what made him a natural cruise director. And his gorgeous look helped as well.

"It's all for show." Gwen said, sidling up next to Merlin and threading her arm through his. Lance on her other side merely glanced over at them and chuckled. He knew well enough by now that Merlin was no threat to their relationship. "You know he loves his job."

"He seems to be the only one." Merlin grumbled. He tipped his head back, taking three large gulps from his beer. It tasted awful, as most beer did to him, but he needed the buzz. It had been a long day and he felt like crap.

Ever since Arthur Pendragon had cornered him in the blonde's stateroom, forcing Merlin to spit out lie after lie, his stomach had been a twisting knot of worry and guilt. Well, more so than usual since Morgana's disappearance. He had buried the whole incident, more interested in just getting through the last few months of his contract and being rid of the ship entirely. He would have to live with the guilt on the back burner for the rest of his life, he knew that but it was better to the alternative.

Arthur had brought it all back up to the surface, and not only in Merlin's mind, but to the ship in general. It was the only reason the man was on this ship, two weeks to shed light back onto what had happened, bring it back to the forefront of everyone's minds when it was safely buried and forgotten. Merlin had no idea what Arthur would do.

What the people who wanted it to stay buried would do.

A familiar voice broke through Merlin's thoughts, the words barely discernible over the music, "...asked me about the woman who jumped two months ago."

The knot of worry turned to a gaping pit in his stomach. He looked over to his right, following the sound of the voices and saw Mordred and Cedric talking just an arm's length away.

"Merlin? You okay?" He heard Gwen say but he just nodded his head, flashing her a smile he didn't feel, his whole attention focused on listening to the conversation happening to his right.

"Was he blonde? Blue eyes, about this tall?" Merlin chanced a quick glance over to see Cedric hold his hand up parallel to the floor a little above his head.

Mordred nodded, taking a swing from his drink. "Yeah."

Shit.

Cedric clapped Mordred on the arm. "He asked me too. Told me he heard she had been murdered." He laughed.

"He asked me if I thought she had been drugged." Mordred said with a smirk and Merlin felt his heart clench. He had his suspicions before about Mordred but had thrown them out once he stopped his investigation. Had he been right?

But Cedric was talking again and Merlin focused once more on what they were saying. "Do you think he's a fed?"

"Naw," Mordred answered, "they already did their investigation. Suicide. Probably just morbid curiosity. One of those freaks who's fascinated by murder."

Merlin hoped to god that's what Mordred thought. Fuck, if word got out that Arthur was investigating Morgana's death…

No, it was out of Merlin's hand. He had done his piece, kept to the lies, stayed out of it like the good little boy he was. If Arthur wanted to gamble with his own life, that was his own prerogative. He was a stubborn insufferable prat who trashed his room in a tantrum. He deserved it.

Merlin felt sick at his own thoughts. He would never wish death upon anyone, not even a prat like Arthur. God, the man had lost his sister, he just wanted find out the truth. That's what he deserved, the truth.

And to know what he was getting himself into. Merlin could do that. The least he could do was warn him. He would have to admit to his lies but it was a small price to pay if it saved Arthur's life. Who knows what could happen to him if he kept on as he was. He could end up just like Morgana.

No. Merlin wouldn't let that happen, not when he could stop it.

By the time Merlin focused back on Mordred and Cedric, their conversation had progressed to the short skirt and revealing top Mary was sporting that night.

"-lin. Merlin." Merlin turned back to face Gwen.

"What?" He asked, knowing he had been caught not paying attention. That was the least of his worries at the moment and just another pang of guilt to add to his ever growing pile.

Gwen's eyes were swimming with concern as she studied his face. "Hey, where did you go?"

"Sorry," he said, waving a hand flippantly and trying to look exhausted. Not that it took much effort. "Tired."

Lance moved closer to the pair, bending down slightly and looking into Merlin's eyes. "You don't look so good," Lance said in the tone he used with patients with sea sickness. "Come on sit down. I can get you some dramamine if you need something."

"No, that's okay," Merlin assured him. He ran a hand down his face in a vain attempt to wipe the fear away. "I think I'm just going to turn in for the night."

Lance looked him over once more as he threw an arm around Gwen. "Are you sure? Don't hesitate to come see me at the medical bay if you still don't feel good by morning." He raised his eyebrows pointedly at Merlin.

"Thanks Lance, I'm sure I'll be fine after I get some sleep." He flashed the pair a smirk as he set his beer down on the bar and turned to leave. "You two love birds enjoy the rest of the night."

"Alright," Gwen called, her voice nearly drowned by the music. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, will do." He yelled over his shoulder, trying to keep himself from running out of the room and down the hall until he reached the imaginative safety of his own cabin.

In all honesty, he didn't feel safe anywhere on board the ship. Not anymore. But that didn't matter. Arthur wouldn't be safe either if he kept this up. He didn't know though and Merlin was the only one who could tell him. It was a huge risk. If anyone found out he had talked to a guest about Morgana, talked to a guest who had been asking questions no doubt, he could lose more than just his job. But so could Arthur.

Merlin checked his phone and cursed. 23:32. Much too late to be knocking on Arthur's door.

It would have to wait until morning.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** Dramamine is a drug that helps with seasickness.

And Merlin never did get his cake :(


	5. Chapter 5

International Waters off the western coast of Canada (Cruising day)

The crew was getting sick of him already, Arthur could just tell. He had cornered them and asked them questions for the past two days, trying to discern who had worked on the ship when Morgana was still on board and what they knew of her disappearance. He was told off a lot, politely, but mainly he was given the same monotonous spiel that Merlin had.

In other words, he was no closer to figuring out….anything.

It was absolutely frustrating, to say the least. He just had one more day of 'cruising' on the open water before they docked at their first port and he was determined not to waste it. He had managed to weed out of an unsuspecting pool boy who the head of security was—a woman by the name of Gwen Smith—and was planning to have a little talk with her. She had to have seen something that night.

He was just pulling on his socks when there was a knock at his door.

"Cabin steward," a muffled familiar voice sounded from beyond the door.

Arthur grit his teeth at the announcement. Merlin was the last person he wanted to see right now. "Come back later."

Another knock echoed through the room, louder. "Cabin steward."

Arthur growled. Was the man deaf as well as dumb? Or did he enjoy popping up at all hours of the day, knowing his mere presence was a reminder of Arthur's dwindling hope. He strode over to the door threw it open with a sneer, "I said come back—"

"The extra towels you requested, sir," Merlin said. He nodded in emphasis at the two fluffy white towels folded neatly in his arms. While Merlin's body was relaxed, his face was tense, eyes alert and pointedly staring at Arthur. Arthur would almost say he was nervous, anxious about something. He dismissed it almost immediately and pushed the thought from his mind.

"I didn't ask for any towels," Arthur said. He made to close the door.

"Let me in. We need to talk." Merlin said, his lips barely moving. Arthur raised his eyebrow in suspicion. Merlin's eyes turned pleading then. "Please."

Arthur hesitated. He didn't think he could handle another let down like their first encounter. It had been a hard hit to his conviction and he didn't want to go through another. But his curiosity and hopes had been peaked and he knew, no matter what the man had to say, he wanted to hear it. He had to know.

Arthur stepped aside, beckoning Merlin into his stateroom. "Um yeah, just….set them over by the desk." Merlin nodded with the continued ruse and strode across the room. Sunlight from the large windows kissed his dark hair as he walked further in, turning it temporarily brunette. The cabin steward was attractive, Arthur would give him that. With his sharp features and cobalt crystal eyes lined by long lashes, and a lean lithe frame that gave him just enough height to match Arthur's own, give or take a few. Had he met the man in a pub or a bar he would have enticed him back to his flat. But Arthur wasn't here to for that. He couldn't afford to think like that, not here, not now.

He let the door close behind him, following Merlin further into the room.

"You need to be careful," Merlin said, turning around to face Arthur. "Don't go around advertising who you are or what you are doing here."

Arthur frowned, anger welling up inside him. Hopened his mouth to object, to defend his actions but he stopped himself, thinking. "Why? Like you said, it was nothing but a suicide. What does it matter?"

Merlin huffed in annoyance and set the towels down on the edge of the bed. He ran his hands through his dark hair in a clear sign of agitation. "Because it does—damn it you just need to stop!"

Damn. Even annoyed Merlin was quite appealing. Dark locks adorably ruffled, blue eyes sparkling. It shouldn't have been so attractive, especially with how angry he was at the man. But Arthur couldn't help himself. He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

Arthur crossed his arms and glared down the cabin steward. "No."

"Jesus, you—" Merlin cut himself off and took a deep breath. "Your sister is gone. She's not coming back and nothing you do here will help that."

"I need to know what happened to her. I need justice"

"It's not worth it, trust me," Merlin said with a shake of his head.

Arthur frowned in confusion. Merlin was making no sense. What could it hurt to ask about, to find out what the crew had seen? To retrace his sister's final steps? Unless….

Arthur scrutinized Merlin, taking in his agitated movements, the worry that lined his face as he stood in the middle of the room. His hands fidgeted at his sides, as though the steward didn't know what to do with himself. Nervous, agitated, and...was that fear? "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The response was quick, rushed.

Arthur took a minute to watch Merlin, letting him squirm a bit under his stare, before asking, "You said it wasn't worth it? Worth what?"

The cabin steward looked pale. "The risk…" he stuttered, "of being banned from the cruise line."

Arthur was shaking his head before Merlin finished his weak response. "No, that's not what you meant."

Merlin reached up as though to run his hand through his hair again but aborted the movement halfway through. But Arthur saw it for what it was. He just needed to push a bit more.

"What aren't you telling me? Just spit it out already."

A beat passed, then two before with a sigh, Merlin deflated. He sat down on the foot of the bed, hunched, elbows on his knees. "You were right okay?" He looked up and met Arthur's eyes. "About Morgana. It wasn't suicide. Hell, it wasn't even an accident."

Relief washed through Arthur, releasing the tension that he had been carrying around for months. He thought he would have felt angry, even murderous but it was like a puzzle piece slot into place and the world seemed less off kilter. "What do you know?"

Merlin looked down at his clasped hands and shook his head. "Not much." Arthur huffed in annoyance and Merlin's head snapped up glare at him. "Honestly, I don't. But someone from the crew does, or hell maybe even the whole cruise line, and they are willing to do anything to keep it from getting out."

A few months ago, Arthur would have said that was too far fetched, that a whole cruiseline couldn't just bury their misdeeds. But now? He sounded exactly the sort of thing they would do. There were reports and first hand accounts of the many things various lines would do in order to push the responsibility off of themselves. And it was easy for them, having conducted most of their business out in international waters. The laws were blurred, jurisdiction faded, nomansland. Merlin's answer didn't surprise Arthur in the least.

"How do you know this?" He asked.

Merlin hesitated a beat and rubbed the back of his neck before confessing, "Because they threatened me."

"They threatened you?!" Hot anger full of protectiveness flared up in Arthur's chest for this man he hardly knew. And that in itself couldn't be good, forming feelings for this man. He couldn't afford to be distracted. Justice, he was here to find justice for Morgana, not to find himself a boyfriend.

Merlin shrugged, waving off Arthur's anger. "Yes, look, I can't stay long so I can't get into this much, not here." He stood up and made his way to the door, turning back to face Arthur after a few steps. "Just, you need to be more careful okay?"

"No, wait," Arthur said reaching out and grabbing Merlin's arm as he turned to leave again. "You can't just drop a bomb like that and walk away! What else do you know?"

"I can't talk more here. We'll be docking in Ketchikan tomorrow morning, I can meet you somewhere on shore." He jerked his arm, a clear sign that Arthur should let go.

Arthur was already shaking his head before Merlin even finished speaking, his grip only tightening on Merlin's arm. "No, no way, you will explain it now," he said, his tone a near growl.

"Look you prat," Merlin said angrily. He leveled Arthur with a hard glare and yanked his arm out of Arthur's grip. "There are eyes and ears all over this damn ship and I've already been in here too long as it is. Ketchikan, tomorrow, that's the best I can do."

Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself. He had waited this long to get a lead, he could wait another day. It wouldn't do to push away his only source now. Guilt was already creeping up his throat from having grabbed the man a second ago. He swallowed it down and asked, "Where?"

Merlin studied Arthur's eyes and gave him a nod. "Pioneer Cafe, nine am. Oh and don't bother tracking down Gwen. She never saw anything on the tapes."

Merlin turned and left before Arthur could get out another word.

* * *

 **A/N: Fun Fact:** The Pioneer Cafe is a real cafe in Ketchikan, Alaska. Google maps can show you where it is and what it looks like, inside and out. Oh google maps, what would we do without you?


	6. Chapter 6

Ketchikan, Alaska USA (First Port of Call)

A light rain fell over the small Alaskan town of Ketchikan, dusting the roads and buildings in a reflective sheet of water. Their first port of call and the weather was already proving to be a nuisance. Merlin chuckled to himself as he passed grumbling passengers huddled under gift shop awnings, consulting maps and arguing about changing plans. Elena was going to have a mob after her with shore excursion cancellations and demands of refunds. He did not envy her in the slightest today.

Merlin shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and headed further into town. He bypassed the cafes, gift shops, and restaurants bustling with cruise passengers and locals eager to take advantage of heavy pockets and time to kill.

The crowds of people thinned significantly as Merlin made his way through the streets, most choosing to stay near the ship should the clouds decide to completely release their burden. Just a Merlin had hoped. With the conversation he needed to have with Arthur, they needed as few prying ears as possible.

The cafe stood on the side of an inclined one way street, its reddish brown wood panelling exterior giving it an old west feel if not for the backdrop of lush green mountains and grey clouded skies. A matching reddish brown overhang protruded from the building, protecting the aggregate sidewalk that doubled as the stoop from the light rain of the day. Large display windows made up the front of the cafe with signs advertising the local delicacies of reindeer sausages and hand-breaded halibut. It was supposed to be enticing, to lure tourists in with promises of delicacies but to Merlin it just looked like a sad lost-in-time diner.

Which was exactly why he had chosen it.

Merlin pushed open the door with a creak of metal hinges. The smell of sausages and fried fish assaulted his nose. He would have found it appealing if his stomach wasn't currently tied into knots at the prospect of what he was about to do.

Damn his guilty conscious. Damn his empathy.

He could have just kept his head down and continued on, finished out his contract and put this all behind him. But no, he had to fall for the attractive blonde brother's pleading eyes and drag himself back into this mess. Granted, he had gotten himself into this mess in the first place but he meant to stay out of it after...the threat. Why couldn't he have just stayed out of it.

After a brief scan of the nearly empty cafe to see if Arthur had somehow arrived early, Merlin strode over to the furthest booth from the door and plopped himself down, shedding his coat in the process. It was warm in the cafe, the heat from the kitchen more than enough the keep the place comfortable and Merlin felt himself relax a bit surrounded by the familiarity. He had been to the cafe on their last Alaskan voyage, briefly, just long enough to sample a famous reindeer sausage before exploring the rest of the town a bit. It had definitely not lived up to it's fame but it was decent enough.

A plump brunette waitress approached his booth, her hair in a messy bun, a simple white apron around her waist. "Can I start you off with something to drink or do you know what you want?"

"No food," Merlin said, "just tea, please."

The waitress nodded, flashing him a kind smile. "Sure thing." She walked back toward the counter and started up a pot.

Merlin reached into his pocket and fumbled for his phone, nerves making him even more clumsy. 08:50, he had ten minutes. He could still walk out of here and just spend the rest of the cruise avidly avoiding Arthur. It would be hard, but it would definitely be safer.

No, no he owed it to Morgana, to Arthur to see this through. The guilt was already eating away at him. If he backed out now, he would never be able to live with himself.

The waitress had just brought over his tea when the door to the cafe opened and Merlin looked up to see Arthur walk in. The blonde pushed his hood off his head as he entered and ran a hand through his golden blonde hair, inadvertently ruffling it further. Usually, Merlin didn't have a thing for blondes. Most tended to have an overly inflated ego that he just couldn't stand even on good days, but Merlin had to admit that Arthur was certainly attractive despite his sometimes pompous behavior. He was fit in just the right areas and not overly built, tapered but not lean and lanky unlike Merlin's own frame. Someone that could easily wrap around him without completely smothering him.

Merlin shook his head. Nope, those were not thoughts he was allowed to have. The man had lost his sister and was only talking to him in order to glean information from him, nothing more. Not to mention the impossibility of it all. He was the hired help, that's all he could be even if Arthur by some miracle wanted more.

Arthur took in the cafe for a brief moment, scrunching his nose in distaste at the black and white tiled flooring, before spotting Merlin and making his way over. His footsteps clacked through the quiet cafe, adding to the constant ring of cutlery and bang of pots coming from the back of the kitchen.

With a nod, Arthur slid into the booth opposite Merlin. "So what do you know?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the man."Straight to the point, of course," he said, taking a sip of his tea. It was still much too hot and he nearly choked as it scalded his tongue but he needed to do something to distract himself and stop his hands from shaking.

Arthur's brow flattened in nager. "What, do you want to exchange pleasantries? Talk about the weather and how our days are going? It's raining, my sister's still missing, can we move on now?"

"Being a prat doesn't make me want to tell you anything." Merlin snapped. He winced internally, cursing his nerves and the cheeky behavior they brought forth. It was a defense mechanism, one he had little to no control over when he was stressed.

Arthur scowled at him, but his eyes betrayed a glint of amusement. "What do you want? Money?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting a couple of bills. "I can give you money."

"No, I don't want your damn money," Merlin hissed, batting Arthur's offered bills away. "A little respect and some common courtesy, or is that too much to ask for from a pompous ass like you?"

Arthur was silent for a moment staring at Merlin with a scowl on his face. His hand still clasping the bills, lay limp on the table. Then, to Merlin's surprise, his eyes crinkled in amusement and a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"You're right," he said. His tone was soft, genuine. "I apologize. These past few months haven't been the best for me."

Merlin's heart clenched at the pained look on Arthur's face. "They haven't exactly been the best for me either."

The look of sympathy and understanding in Arthur's eyes made Merlin's heart skip a beat and his breath stutter in his lungs. Just like that, he understood. Before, in Arthur's stateroom, he had only been worried about the dangers, the threats that lurked over him and could very easily be applied to Arthur if Merlin didn't deter him from asking more questions. But he understood now. All that pain, anger, frustration and guilt he felt ever since Morgana had disappeared, Arthur felt it too. Moreso, much much more. He had the same drive, the same overwhelming need to find out what had happened to Morgana and catch the person or persons responsible, not just because it was right, but because he felt guilty. She was his sister, his blood, his family. The pain and anger he felt was ten times that of Merlin's. If he had a sister and this had happened to her, he would have gone to the ends of the earth to find the truth. And no amount of danger or threats would have deterred him.

Who was Merlin to stand in the way of that?

Merlin didn't realize he was staring at Arthur until the man cleared his throat, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You mentioned you were threatened?" Arthur asked, voice overly casual.

Merlin sat back with a nod. "By my boss and then later by one of the crew."

Arthur frowned at Merlin in confusion. "Maybe you should start at the beginning," he said.

"Yeah, that might be best." Merlin picked up his tea, blew on it and took a few sips before speaking.

"I didn't know anything was wrong until I noticed her cabin hadn't been occupied for a few days…"

 _Merlin eased open the crew door behind the guest services desk and slipped through._

 _"George," Merlin said, trying to keep his tone calm and casual despite the knot of unease in his stomach. "Have there been any charges to cabin 1003 in the last few days?"_

 _"Let me look." George said. He clicked open a search on the computer and typed in the room number before pulling up the associated files and digital ledgers of charges "The last charge was made at 11:58am on the 12th."_

 _The pit dropped to the bottom of Merlin's stomach. "That's the very last charge made? There haven't been any others since?"_

 _George shook his head. "No, none."_

 _"But that was three days ago." Merlin said no longer caring about the hint of panic in his voice._

 _George gave no indication he picked up on Merlin's turmoil. "Two actually," he said, not taking his eyes away from the screen._

 _Merlin ran a frustrated hand through his hair and scowled. "That's not the point. Did she have charges any other days?"_

 _Now George did turn around and give Merlin a questioning eyebrow. "Why are you so interested in this guest?"_

 _"I don't think she's been in her room in a while. The bed is always untouched, the towels left where I put them. Even her suitcase hasn't been opened or moved," Merlin said honestly. "I just want to make sure she's—"_

 _"Still onboard?" George interrupted._

 _"Yes."_

 _George stared at him for a beat longer before nodding seriously and turning back to the computer screen. "She's had a few charges at the gift shops and charges every night at dinner, wine it looks like. Good years from the look of it, expensive."_

 _Merlin crossed his arms and glared at the receptionist. "George."_

 _George rolled his eyes but continued to scroll down. "Right. Oh and a few charges at bars and lounges as well every night."_

 _"But none after the 12th?" Merlin asked, placing a hand on the desk and leaning forward to inspect the screen. This wasn't looking good, not in the slightest. There was no evidence that Mrs. Le Fay was on board the ship still. And if he wasn't on board the ship and no one had been made aware of her missing then she didn't disappear while at their last port. She disappeared while at sea._

 _George shook his head. "No, nothing."_

 _"Shit." Merlin could feel the beginnings of a panic attack clawing up his throat, his breaths getting uneven, vision swimming. A passenger was missing, his charge. He should have seen it sooner, should have noticed he wasn't in her room days ago. It was his fault._

 _Merlin barely registered George turning around until the man placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it's fine Merlin. Maybe she's decided to limit herself."_

 _Merlin was shaking his head before George even finished speaking."She's staying in the luxury suite. I doubt she has a limit," he said, standing back upright and out from under George's touch. He didn't know the man that well, but right now, the last thing he wanted was comfort. He had a passenger missing and he needed to find her, find out what happened to her and make sure she was safe. For all he knew, George was right and she was just limiting herself. And staying in a friend's cabin. Merlin's gut was screaming at him that that wasn't the case though."Can you call her to the desk?"_

 _George sighed, obviously exasperated and Merlin tried to keep his panic from exploding out in shouts of anger. "Merlin…"_

 _"Please," he begged. "If she shows up, that's that. I just need to make sure. Otherwise we have a problem."_

 _Of course Nimueh chose that moment to walk passed the desk. "What's the problem?" the manager said, clearly having overheard their conversation._

 _George sighed and shook his head, turning back to his computer. "Nothing, Merlin's just over-"_

 _Merlin quickly cut him off. "I think oneb of our guests is missing."_

 _Nimueh crossed her arms and leveled him with a patronizing eyebrow. "Why do you think that?" she asked, her tone overly high and mocking._

 _Merlin ignored her obvious display of disbelief. "I haven't seen her in a few days and her bed hasn't been slept in."_

 _Nimueh all but rolled her eyes at him and Merlin had to bite his tongue less he made a scene with passengers milling around in the lobby. That would be a quick way for him to get reprimanded and possibly fired._

 _"Maybe she's with a companion," Nimueh said._

 _Merlin shook his head. "No, she came alone, said she recently got engaged." He thought back to the two short conversations he had with her, none of which gave any indication she could be with someone else, could be somewhere else. "I just...I have a bad feeling."_

Merlin released a shaky breath. "We were on our last leg of the cruise, two sea days before arriving back in Los Angeles." His hands started shaking even more and he quickly covered it up by grabbing his tea again and taking a slow long draw. Then he continued. "I eventually convinced them to call your sister to the desk but she never showed.

"No one seemed overly worried but all on duty were informed to keep an eye out for Morgana. By the end of the day, she still hadn't been found and security hadn't been able to locate any sign of her on board the ship from the last two days. That's when they finally alerted the Captain and the Coast Guard that we have a potential manoverboard."

Arthur's face was drawn and pinched as he glared at Merlin. "They searched for less than thirty-six hours." At first, the anger in his eyes alarmed Merlin, he relaxed a bit when it became clear it wasn't aimed at him. "But they never found her."

Merlin shook his head, feeling his throat tighten. "I know."

"And then that that…" Arthur's hands clenched into fists on the table. "That fool," he spit out, "came forward saying he had seen her jump that night and that was it. The search was called off, the cruise docked and everyone went along their merry ways."

Merlin remembered that too and how it had just felt...wrong. He had no way to explain or to counteract the witness' statement. Not one that would persuade the investigation. No one ever labeled 'gut instinct' as evidence.

"I asked Gwen, our security manager check the surveillance," Merlin said, his own anger rising at the injustice of it all. "That passenger, who had reportedly seen her jump, he was drunk off his ass that night. He wasn't even on the same deck as her. The most he could have seen was the splash of her hitting the water. And then he didn't bother to report it until later when the news spread. He just wanted his ten minutes of fame talking to reporters."

Arthur growled, banging his fist on the table just as the waitress came over. She jumped at his outburst, eyes wide with shock and a bit of fear as she stared at Arthur. He apologized profusely and after they both declined her offer of food and drink, she left them in a hurry.

"The cruise line failed to tell us anything," Arthur said with a sigh when the waitress had disappeared back into the kitchen. His voice was low and solemn, tinged with sorrow that Merlin wanted to erase. "They gave us their condolences, claimed they weren't responsible, and that was it. Even the inspector that came onboard to investigate didn't find anything."

Of course the inspector didn't find anything. Whoever was brought on board wasn't there to find anything. Merlin sighed and shook his head solemnly. "He's on their payroll."

Arthur's head shot up, eyes wide with shock as they met Merlin's gaze. "What?!"

"The inspector. He's with the cruiseline," Merlin said matter-of-factly. Arthur looked angry and bewildered so Merlin continued before the blonde could raise his voice and scare the rest of the cafe half to death. "It's mandatory that an investigation take place when an incident occurs on a cruise in international waters. But the people who come to investigate are almost always tied to and hired by the cruiseline. They never find anything even if there is something to find."

Arthur shook his head. "That can't be legal," he said.

Merlin shrugged. He wasn't an expert on the legality of it all, but he knew there was much more than just that that cruise lines got away with. "There's quite a bit of leniency when you do a majority of your business in international waters."

Arthur looked toward the old historical car photos on the wall, his jaw clenched. Silence fell between them. Merlin took another sip from his tea, the temperature more tolerable now.

It was Arthur that spoke again, breaking the quiet. "So then how did you find out it wasn't an accident? Or a…." He paused, struggling for a moment. "A suicide?"

"It just didn't feel right," Merlin said honestly. He would put it down to one of his funny feelings and nearly said as much, but he didn't want Arthur to think he was a total nut job. Not this early in their...acquaintance? Partnership? He didn't know what to call it but either way, being labeled a nut job wasn't on his to-do list today. Especially not by fit blondes way out of his league.

"Gwen didn't find any surveillance video of Morgana's fall over the rail," he continued. "The last video recorded is of her stumbling from the bar on the Atlantic deck and onto the outer deck. Then she just…. disappears." Merlin wrapped his hands around his cup, trying to suck up more warmth from it. "There's a small blind spot between two life rafts on the outer deck. She exited one camera's frame and never appeared in the next."

Arthur sighed, looking exhausted beneath the ever present anger as he ran a hand over his face. "They never let us see the footage. Said it was private and not deemed evidence."

Merlin nodded. That's what Gwen had told him too when he had come asking. But they had formed a sort of friendship over their time working on the ship, their mutual dislike for the cruise line and coworkers bringing them together.

"They didn't want word to get out about their slack in security," Merlin explained. He wrapped his hands around the ceramic mug of tea, letting the heat seep into his skin and drawing comfort from it. "Nothing will ever be the cruise line's fault if only to keep their glowing reputation. When I started trying to get answers they told me they were taking care of it and not to worry. It wasn't until I kept persisting that they threatened to have me fired if I didn't keep my nose out of it and my head down."

A sigh escaped Arthur's lips and he sat back against the booth looking resigned at Merlin. "So you stopped," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"Being so obvious about it, yes," Merlin admitted. He raised an eyebrow, running his gaze deliberately up and down Arthur's frame. "Some of us need our jobs and rely heavily on them, no matter how much we hate them. Not all of us can afford to take leisurely cruises."

Arthur raised his eyebrows in return, taking the challenge as it was. "Yes, but there are other jobs," he said as though berating a small child. His expression and tone then took on a more serious note as he continued, "A woman lost her life, Merlin."

"And I could have lost mine."

"How? Work you to death?" Arthur teased, a small smile playing across his lips.

Merlin shook his head, ignoring the flip his stomach did at the sight of that smile aimed at him. "Not long after I continued to—subtly of course—snoop around, someone came to pay me a visit in my cabin…."

 _The cabin was cold, chilled by the Alaskan night but Merlin was more than content. The mound of blankets on his cot swathed him in a cocoon of warmth as the gentle swaying of the ship lulled him to sleep._

 _The lock of his cabin door clicked before being pushed open, the muffled sound of the edge dragging along the carpet following soon after. Merlin ignored his cabin mate's late entrance in favor of chasing the sleep he rarely seemed to catch enough of as it was._

 _Merlin jerked violently as a gloved hand covered his mouth, harsh grip digging into his cheeks and pushing his head forcefully into his pillow. He jumped in shock, immediately twisting in his sheet to escape the restraint. But a weight landed on his chest, heavy, suffocating, and he stilled as he felt cold metal kiss his throat._

 _"Don't move, don't make a sound, just listen and this will all be over."_

 _Merlin lay frozen, his mind whirling in panic, still not completely comprehending what was happening. But he had enough sense to subtly nod his head in agreement. In the darkness of the cabin, Merlin could just barely make out the black silhouette of a person, a man he assumed, straddling him on the bed. He was dressed in dark clothes—or so Merlin thought—with not a patch of skin showing. The voice was deep, distorted, like those used in slasher movies when the killer doesn't want their voice to be recognized. But the face above him was covered completely by a full black mask, the indentation of the eyes, mouth, and protrusion of the nose leaving no space for a voice distorter._

Like batman _, Merlin's mind supplied helpfully through his fear. Clearly his brain had yet to fully wake up despite the circumstances._

 _"If you don't stop poking your head where it doesn't belong, you'll disappear just like that woman. Do you understand?" the intruder continued in the deep voice. Merlin nodded slowly, careful to keep his neck very still. "Stop asking questions, stop snooping around, just keep to yourself and you might survive until the end of your contract." The blade ghosted along his neck briefly before returning and pressing harder. Merlin could feel the blade breaking the skin. "Got it?"_

 _Merlin nodded again, automatically, fear like a vice around his lungs._

 _"Good." The intruder said and a beat later, the knife's cold touch was removed from Merlin's neck. He drew in a ragged breath. But a second later the breath whooshed out of him as the man above him sunk his fist into his midsection, once, twice, then a third time just to drive the point home. Pain bloomed through Merlin's stomach, nausea roiling through him as he curled up into himself. He didn't notice when the man's weight disappeared, so consumed was he with trying to take a breath and alleviate the pain in his stomach._

 _By the time, Merlin was able to take a wheezing breath and open his eyes, the man and any trace he had ever been there was gone._

"Why the hell didn't you report it?" Arthur asked, his voice a little louder than Merlin would have liked. Thankfully, the blonde seemed to realize this, giving the nearly empty cafe a not-so-subtle scan. The old man in the booth by the door was paying them no mind, too preoccupied with his disassembled reindeer dog and ketchup smothered fries.

"To who?!" Merlin hissed, leaning forward over the table once more. "I have no idea who it was or who else was involved. Hell for all I know, that was done under orders of the cruise line."

Arthur crossed his arms over the table, leveling Merlin with an incredulous look "That seems a little farfetched to me."

"I would have thought this whole thing was far-fetched a few months ago," Merlin said. "But now..." he trailed off, splaying his hands at their current surroundings as evidence.

"So that's it? You just stopped?"

"Yes," Merlin deadpanned. His job was one thing, his life, a completely different story. "I don't trust anyone on board anymore. I have a few suspicions about who came into my room, based solely on build and height, but I don't know who else is involved."

Arthur nodded, looking off toward the far wall behind Merlin, his expression thoughtful. Merlin took advantage of the lull in conversation to finish off his tea. It was lukewarm, but he choked it down anyway. It would be rude enough not to, after they had nearly scared the poor waitress earlier. Perhaps he should leave her a big tip too.

Merlin was contemplating the merits of a 100% tip for a cup of tea when Arthur nodded his head and moved to gather up his coat. "Thank you for this Merlin, for telling me. I can take it from here, you don't have to worry."

"What?" Merlin stared at the blonde, his mind whirling in shock. But Arthur just held out his hand to Merlin over the table as though they had just finished a business transaction. Merlin quickly shook his head in bewilderment and pointed a threatening finger at Arthur. "No, absolutely not. You dragged me back into this. I'm not letting you do..," he waved his hands, at a loss of what to call whatever it was that they were doing, "this alone."

"You said so yourself," Arthur stated, throwing on his coat, "it's not worth risk. Someone threatened your life, Merlin." He raised his eyebrows, daring Merlin to dispel his statement. But behind the motion, Merlin could see the concern and worry in his light blue eyes. Was he concerned about Merlin?

"And they could very well kill you." Merlin countered, trying to stare the blonde down.

Arthur crossed his arms in a haughty gesture. "No, they wouldn't dare. I'm a passenger on board this ship, my family and friends know where I am and what I am doing. If I go missing, they'll know something's up."

"So was Morgana," Merlin retorted. Arthur's eyes hardened and he opened his mouth to no doubt rage at Merlin for his insensitivity but Merlin ploughed on before he could. "And they'll go asking questions and getting no answers. Sound familiar? Meanwhile _you'll still be dead_."

The unwavering determination was back in full force on Arthur's face. "I have to do this. I need to find out who did this to her and why."

He should have known, should have seen this coming. Arthur's determination and drive were palpable, clear for anyone to see once he started talking about Morgana's disappearance. He was taking a risk, a huge risk, one that could very well end with him at the bottom of the ocean. It was crazy, insane, they barely knew each other but Merlin knew he would never forgive himself if he let anything happen to Arthur while he could have helped prevent it.

"As do I," Merlin said, mimicking Arthur's crossed arms stance. He wasn't going to back down from this. Stubborn to a fault, his mother would have said. "I'm not letting you do this alone."

"Merlin—"

Merlin shook his head, cutting Arthur off before he could finish, "One of my passengers went missing under my watch already, I'll be damned if I allow another one to." He leaned back then, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, a prat like yourself won't like a last another day without someone watching their back. You're not subtle." He chanced a playful smirk Arthur's way.

Arthur for his part, looked surprised at Merlin's change of tone, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Says the man who got threatened for attempting to be just that."

"There you go again, insulting someone who is trying to help you."

"Why do you care so much?" Arthur said, his tone turning serious once more. "Did you and my sister have a…." He waved his hand suggestively at Merlin.

Merlin stared at Arthur, confused before he caught on to Arthur's implication. He quickly shook his head, red tinging his cheeks. "No, no I'm gay!" he blurted out, his voice a bit too loud for the small cafe. The old man near the front looked up at the outburst. Merlin flashed him an apologetic smile before dropping his eyes to the table top and lowering his voice as he said, "I just…it's my fault isn't it?"

He couldn't look at Arthur, fearing the agreement he might find in his eyes. He felt enough guilt as it was without adding Arthur's blame to the mix. He barely knew the man but already he felt a connection with him, a mutual understanding of determination and loss. Though, Arthur's greatly outweighed his own, he had no doubts about that.

"Really?" Arthur said, his tone laced with disbelief. "And how have you come to that idiotic conclusion?"

Merlin took a chance and looked up at Arthur with a scowl. There was no malice there, no blame in his eyes. Just incredulity and a hint of amusement that made Merlin scowl even further. "I should have noticed her missing sooner. If I had—"

"She would still have been lost at sea." Arthur said, brows raised, daring Merlin to contradict him.

"But maybe something could have been done," Merlin said with a wave of his hand. "Some evidence found earlier before it was covered up or lost. Maybe the coast guard could have found her."

"Merlin," Arthur said gently, sliding his hands along the table to cup Merlin's own. They were rough but warm, their weight a comfort Merlin didn't know he needed, didn't know he yearned for. He didn't have anyone, no friends, no family, no coworkers he could confide in, no one he could turn to for comfort and reassurance. And he hadn't realized just how much he needed someone to share this burden with. The weight hadn't completely lifted from his shoulders, but it had lessened. It was manageable now, and for the first time in months, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Arthur gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "Stop beating yourself up. It's not your fault, there's nothing you could have done. But you can help me find the bastard that did this and bring him to justice."

"Or bastards," Merlin corrected. "And stop sounding like some cheesy comic book hero."

Arthur gave his hands one more reassuring squeeze before releasing them. Merlin wanted their warmth back immediately, wanted the comfort. It was foolish, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Arthur had an affect on him.

"Only if you stop sounding like some guilt-ridden teenager," Arthur countered with a smirk as he leaned back on the bench.

Merlin scowled at him but was unable to completely hide his amusement. "I'm twenty-five."

Arthur let out a bark of a laugh that sent tingles down Merlin's spine. "All the more reason."

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** In quite a few of the cases I read about guests going missing/overboard, the inspector or investigator that came on board was in fact paid by the cruiseline to report that the cruiseline had done everything they could and wasn't at fault. Sometimes the FBI or others get involved if it's more serious, but for a simple accidental man overboard, they wouldn't. That's some shady sh*t if you ask me...

But no one's asking me


	7. Chapter 7

Inside Passage between Ketchikan and Skagway, Alaska, USA

"Mordred," Arthur stated, leaning back in the swivel chair until it bumped the edge of the desk. He propped his feet up on the foot of the bed, earning him a scowl from Merlin. He responded with a knowing smirk.

Even off duty, Merlin was protective of the state of Arthur's cabin. He pushed Arthur's feet off the bed, sitting himself down in their place. "Yeah, he was on my list at first too."

Arthur perked up at that. "At first?"

Merlin shrugged. "Well, I couldn't really have a list if I wasn't supposed to be looking into anything, now could I?"

Arthur nodded, conceding to Merlin's point. His mind was still reeling over everything that Merlin had told him yesterday in the cafe. He had wanted to discuss it further but Merlin had said he needed to get back to work on the ship and that he would come to see him when next he could.

"But lay low," he had said as he made to leave. "Stop asking the crew so many questions. They are getting suspicious."

Arthur didn't want to, even after the stories Merlin had told him of the threats and assault. He wanted to be doing something, actively trying to find clues or hear statements, not waiting around for Merlin at the cabin steward's next convenience.

But Merlin had pestered him, refusing to leave until Arthur agreed. "Promise me. You won't do anything until we meet again?"

"How do I know you aren't just going to get my promise and avoid me the rest of the trip?"

Merlin chuckled, the sound going straight to Arthur's heart and setting it aflame. Shit, he had it bad. "If you don't hear from me by the end of tomorrow, you can consider this promise null and void."

Arthur had nodded and watched as Merlin dashed out of the cafe, to be swallowed up in the Alaskan misty rain, coat flapping behind him in the wind.

That night Arthur had found a note under the snout of the expertly folded towel dolphin. He smiled at Merlin's handiwork. Though he knew the man left towel animals in all the guests rooms, he couldn't help but feel that he put time and thought into his. The note, scribbled out in long elegant handwriting, had said that Merlin would be by his room at eleven the following morning to "clean" it.

Arthur had to admit, he was greatly anticipating their next meeting. While this whole business was serious and risky as Merlin would say, Arthur couldn't help but find the smallest bit of thrill in it. Was this what it felt like to have a secret affair? Sneaking around, planning times and places to meet, leaving notes for one another. He would not have opposed to Merlin being his secret lover, that was for sure.

But this wasn't a love story. A murder mystery more like it, with death and danger and he should not be able to feel like this in the middle of it. It was breaking some sort of genre code, he was sure of it. And moral code. He should be focusing on his sister, on justice for her and not his own sad desire for a love life. Morgana would always come first. He owed her that much.

Merlin continued, bringing Arthur back to the present, "Why do you suspect Mordred?"

Arthur thought back to the conversation he had with the bartender. "He was the one who served her, he said so himself. I looked at her bill, she had one drink that night, just one. And then all of a sudden she is stumbling and drunk?" He shook his head, feeling his anger rising. "No, I think she was drugged and who better to have an opportunity but the bartender. Plus he just seemed….off. Cold."

Merlin nodded. "That I can definitely agree with. I'm almost positive she was drugged, even more now that you confirmed my suspicions about the amount she drank. But what I can't figure out is his motive."

And that was where Arthur too was getting hung up. Why would Mordred drug Morgana if he wasn't about to take advantage of her? Arthur shuddered at the thought of Morgana helpless and drugged, laid out at the mercy of the bartender.

"Do you know if he left the bar at all after she stumbled off?" He asked.

"Shortly after she left, Mordred ducked into the back to get more supplies. I wasn't able to see the video surveillance myself but Gwen told me." Arthur opened his mouth but Merlin anticipated his question and held up a finger. "Yes, I trust her, at least enough to tell me the truth. She said he was not seen anywhere on any tapes for five whole minutes until he came back with more limes."

Arthur nodded, not completely satisfied but finding himself not doubting Merlin's word. In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn't doubted Merlin since he came back to amend his lies. Not once had he thought Merlin deceiving or distrustful. There was just something about him that Arthur automatically trusted. Well, after their second meeting that is. They got off to a rocky start, that's for sure.

"Is there a back door?" Arthur asked. "Could he have followed her?"

Merlin didn't answer for a moment, his face scrunched up in thought. Arthur tried not to notice how adorable it was. "Yes, he could have followed her," Merlin said finally. "In fact, I think he could have pushed her overboard and gotten back to the bar with time to spare." He shook his head, running his hands over his face, frustrated. "But I just can't figure out why. Why drug her just to throw her overboard? Why kill her?"

Arthur winced at Merlin's words. It was a reminder that Morgana was dead, and that her last few moments were spent in fear or in pain. Without a body, without proof that she was dead, it just felt like she was still out there, just missing or on vacation. Her death hadn't entirely sunk in yet and he was sure it would take some time for him to fully come to terms with it. For now, the little offhanded mentions and reminders seemed only like speculation. It wasn't though, and he knew that at the back on his mind.

"It makes no sense," Merlin whispered.

Arthur shook his head, at a loss himself. For Mordred to go through the trouble of sneaking Morgana a drug and then leaving his post to follow her just in order to kill her. Why? He had never seen Mordred before in his life and he knew most of Morgana's past loves and friendly acquaintances. They worked together, dined together, even lived together. Not once did she ever mention a Mordred. So no, they couldn't have had history. There had to be another reason.

"Even without a motive, Mordred is still a viable suspect," Arthur concluded. "He's definitely on the top of my list."

"Yeah, mine too," Merlin nodded, hands running over the bedspread trying to smooth out invisible wrinkles. "I also thought Cenred could have had a hand in it."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Who's Cenred?" Merlin had never mentioned a Cenred before. Or was Arthur just not paying attention?

"Cenred King, the Chief Cabin Steward. My boss." Merlin scrunched his nose up in disgust and added, "He's a dick."

Amusement pulled at Arthur lips as he shook his head at Merlin's antics. "That's not enough of a reason Merlin."

"It should be," Merlin growled. Then he sobered up, his blue eyes locking on Arthur's with all seriousness. "But no, he's just….shady. He sleeps with nearly all of the female cabin stewards and has openly bragged about his various," Merlin waved his hand through the air, "…exploits."

Arthur did let out a chuckle then. "That basically describes my entire university football team."

Merlin sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, making a few strands stick up. "I know, it's weak reasoning but I just can't help feel suspicious about him. He gives me the creeps." He gave a shudder as if just thinking about the man was enough to creep him out. Which that very well could be. Perhaps Arthur should track down this Cenred and talk to him, see what he has to say for himself.

"We'll add him to the list, but I think for now, we should focus on Mordred."

Merlin nodded. "Agreed." He paused for a beat then sat up straight, his face morphing into one of revelation. Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him, intrigued as the cabin steward spoke. "If he did indeed spike Morgana's drink, he'd have to have a stash of drugs right?"

"I guess," Arthur said with a shrug. "Unless he used all he had."

Merlin face alight with mischief glee. "Still, it's worth a try isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

Merlin jumped up off the bed. "I could sneak into his cabin and have a look around. See if there's any evidence."

Arthur sat up straight, shaking his head unsure how Merlin could possibly think this was in any way a good idea. "No, absolutely not. Merlin, you are not a detective. It's much too dangerous, especially for you. If Mordred had a hand in Morgana's disappearance—"

"I'll be careful," Merlin aid, his face earnest and determined. A determination Arthur himself felt in finding justice but not at the expense of Merlin's life. "If I play it right, he won't even know I was there."

"And if you don't?" Arthur countered.

Merlin shrugged and if that wasn't a good enough indication that this was a horrible idea, Arthur didn't know what was. "Then I'll make something up. Pretend I was playing a practical joke or….I'll figure it out. He won't catch me."

"No, Merlin don't. Please." Arthur wasn't usually one to beg, his father had raised him to think it below him, but he had never been in a situation like this. Someone willing to go into the lion's den per say to help him out. At least, not of their own volition. He definitely didn't want that, especially from Merlin. "It's too risky. We'll find another way to weed him out. Don't put yourself in that position."

The cabin steward frowned, an argument on his lips. "I—"

But Arthur cut him off before he could get very far, hoping to make Merlin see sense. "Please Merlin. Don't. Promise me."

He stared at the man pleadingly. It was one thing to swap information and suspicions in relative privacy, it was another to actively search for evidence. Especially for Merlin, who was already on someone radar. Merlin would be putting himself in danger, risking his life for a hunch.

"I...I can't promise anything."

Arthur growled. "Goddamnit. Merlin."

"I'm feeling slightly useless here," Merlin said, throwing his hands up. "Going about my day as usual while you search for clues, talk to suspects and witnesses and being proactive."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You have to work, Merlin. This is the only reason I'm here."

Merlin leveled Arthur with a look, half pleading, half determined. "Still, I want to be doing more." He ran his hands through his hair once more. Arthur tracked his hands movement, unable to stop himself. Merlin was a mystery to him, but his drive and desire to help were shining qualities that Arthur couldn't help but be drawn to. And he was easy on the eyes, all lean muscle and sharp features that Arthur never knew he could find attractive until he met Merlin.

Arthur stared at the cabin steward for another beat, his heart softening. "And you have. You've done your part and now it's my turn."

Merlin sat back down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. Silence filled the cabin, heavy and weighted with decisions and stubbornness. Arthur watched Merlin's face, the drawn lines of his brow, eyes trained on the carpet as he lost himself to his own thoughts. Had it been anyone else, Arthur might have taken the slumped posture and downturned face to be a signal of defeat, of resignation. But even after just the few hours on the cruise that Arthur had spent with Merlin, he could see right through the charade. Merlin wasn't deterred at all. The slight tension in his shoulders and fidgeting of his fingers told Arthur that the cabin steward had not given up on his plan.

"Why do you still work here?" Arthur asked, the question startling himself as much as it did Merlin.

"What?" Merlin eyes were drawn in confusion as he looked over at Arthur.

"They've threatened to fire you, silenced you, and someone has even threatened your life. Why are you still here?" He met Merlin's gaze, unflinching. He was probably overstepping a bit but he didn't really care at that moment. He wanted to understand, truly. There had to be some reason why Merlin hadn't quit the minute his life had been threatened.

Merlin sighed and flopped back to lay on the bed, legs dangling over the foot. "I need the job. I never went to college, couldn't afford it, and I just," he shrugged as if that explained it all. "I have nowhere else to go. I thought it would be fun to work on a cruise. Get to travel the world, have room and board and food provided. But it's...it's exhausting. I haven't slept a full six hours in over three months. And the pay is shit."

"What about family or friends?"

Merlin shook his head, staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own memories. "Never knew my dad. He left before I was born and my mother moved us to the states not long after. She died when I was eighteen. I didn't...I couldn't deal with it. Ended up pushing my friends away, ignoring them, until they all just disappeared from my life. They went off to college while I buried my mother. Got odd jobs here and there, all menial, all falling through for one reason or another. Money dried up, couldn't afford rent and lived on the streets for a bit before I finally landed a job as a housekeeper at a motel. But with rent and bills and all, the money seemed to disappear as fast as I could earn it. So when a coworker talked about how his cousin worked on cruise ships, everything included, I jumped on it." Merlin sighed, sounding exhausted with every word. "It's hard work, long hours and not the best pay but I've got a place to sleep and food to eat and I get to travel."

Arthur didn't know how to respond to that. He had never knew hardships like those Merlin had endured. His family had always been well off, his father the CEO of a highly successful cyber tech company. His mother died before he even knew her and his father had provided him with everything he needed. The best grade schools, the best university, and when he graduated, the best position at the family company working just below his father. He could sympathize with Merlin's plight in life, but he could never truly empathize and understand.

But he could see that what Merlin's childhood lacked in financial support, it made up for in love and emotional support. Something Arthur envied.

"So, what did you do in Ketchikan?" Merlin asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. He turned onto his side, resting his head in his hand as his eyes found Arthur's.

It took Arthur a moment to answer, lost as he was in Merlin's gaze. "Explored the city." He leaned back in the chair once more, moving to rest his feet back on the bed but a glare from Merlin had him aborting the action. "Morgana told me how she had wandered around town and seen the various totem poles the town is known for and I...I wanted to be where she had been. Just...I don't know."

"To feel close to her," Merlin finished.

"Yeah." Arthur nodded, suddenly solemn, his heart heavy. It had been a nice day, though the weather was less than ideal. He had followed a series of texts Morgana had sent him, pictures of totem poles and comments about the stylistic choices to them. Walking the route she took, seeing the sights she had, it was like she was right there with him. He had seen her in his mind's eye, heard her snarky comments, striding alongside him with confidence in heeled boots that she somehow made work in these small cities of Alaska.

God, how he missed her.

The bed sighed as Merlin leaned forward, his hand coming to lay on Arthur's knee in a gesture of comfort. "I'm sorry, Arthur."

Without conscious thought, Arthur covered Merlin's hand with his own, the cabin steward turning his palm up in order to meet the grasp. He gave Arthur's hand a squeeze and Arthur returned to pressure, a lump forming in his throat as all that had happened so far came crashing down on him.

Morgana was gone.

Dead.

She wasn't coming back.

The dam broke with an almighty heave of breath. Tears swelled and cascaded over before Arthur could even draw in another lung-full of air, sobs escaping past drawn lips. He buried his face in his hands, too overwhelmed with sorrow and pain to feel embarrassed at showing emotions in front of a man he barely knew. Honestly he didn't care. He hadn't realized how much he had been holding back, how much he had been denying or ignoring until just then.

When they had first gotten news, he and his father had so vehemently refused to believe it that none of the true meaning had gotten through their thick walls of denial. Leon had broken down almost immediately, but Arthur had refused, ignoring the fact that his sister was dead in favor of focusing on the injustice. Disputing the rumors and accusations had seemed more important, so much so that Arthur hadn't even realized he didn't believe her gone.

Merlin had brought it to the foreground, coaxing the realization out until Arthur had no choice but to accept it.

Arms wrapped around Arthur, one across his back, the other across his chest, bent up to reach to his face. He immediately leaning into the warmth of Merlin's body, relishing in the comfort he provided.

Merlin didn't say a word, just remained a strong and silent presence Arthur could cling to amidst the sea of overwhelming emotions.

* * *

 **A/N: Fun Fact:** Dolphins represent trust, loyalty, and the spirit of friendship.

We'll see how long that friendship stays a friendship ;)

So yes, for this fic, I have taken the liberty of having Merlin grow up in the US. Though frankly, it wouldn't really matter either way because this is where I took some liberties with this story. It's true that some Americans and British and other first world people can get jobs on cruiselines but for the most part, and especially for someone in a lower position such as Merlin's, cruiselines tend to avoid hiring from those countries. The truth is that we are expensive for them. Our rights demand we get paid fair wages and there are rules that need to be followed that other countries just don't have. It's also why most cruiselines are actually based out of other countries. US cruiselines would have way too many rules and regulations they would need to follow and would cost more to maintain than they would earn.

And it's all about money, isn't it.

So why not cut that out and get people from poorer countries who will work for sh*t wages and not complain about unfair and unsafe conditions? Why not base out of other countries where there are very little rules and regulations to abide by? Yeah, sounds moral and safe to me

You starting to hate the cruise business yet? Well get ready, there's more...


	8. Chapter 8

Skagway, Alaska USA (Second Port of Call)

Merlin picked up another stack of towels and carefully packed them onto his cart, taking his time and drawing out the task. It was just gone one, well passed the time he would usually have finished his rounds, especially at a port of call. Passengers awoke early to make the most of their time ashore, leaving him free to start his work early and therefore finish earlier and still have time to join the other members of the crew ashore for a much needed break.

Not today.

He finished stocking up his cart for the next day quickly then left the storage room and headed toward the stairs to the crew living quarters. The majority of his coworkers, at least those that didn't have shifts until evening, should have disembarked ashore by now. Including Mordred. Merlin had overheard the bartender making plans with a few other crew members to go ashore and explore the city. For a few brief hours, Mordred would not be on board.

Now was Merlin's only chance to do some snooping.

He had no real plan, none at all. It had all been a spur of the moment decision when he had heard Mordred talking this morning. All he knew was that he needed to get into Mordred's room and look around. Simple enough in basic theory.

Except there was the matter of Cedric, Mordred's roommate. Merlin had no idea whether the waiter was joining Mordred's group ashore or not or if the man had a shift at the moment. He could have decided to take a nap in his room and wake up to find a very guilty Merlin snooping around.

Merlin huffed in annoyance. He really should have thought this through. Arthur would have chided him for his lack of forethought. Merlin couldn't help the smile that image brought to his face.

And then there was the matter of figuring out how to get into Mordred's room. Like the guest staterooms, the crew cabins had electronic locks that could only be opened by the crew member's cruise ID card who was staying in that room. Without Mordred or Cedric's ID, Merlin wouldn't be able to get in.

Unless his master key card could unlock the crew cabin doors as well.

As a cabin steward, his job required him to have a master key card that would allow him access to all the staterooms in order to clean them. He just hoped that same key card worked on the crew rooms as well. It was a long shot and really, he should have tested it out on his own room first but there was no time for that now. If it didn't work, he would have to find another way. A less conspicuous and more risky way, he was sure.

He prayed his key card worked.

The corridor was mostly empty as he stepped out of the stairwell, the retreating back of a lone coworker just disappearing through the center hallway to the adjacent corridor on the other side. Merlin made his way toward the bow of the ship where Mordred's cabin was located. To get there, Merlin would have to pass his own cabin, which was more toward the aft of the ship. It would be harder to explain his reason for being down by Mordred's cabin if anyone were to catch him with the only other destination there being the entry to the crew bar. At one in the afternoon, the bar was closed so there was even less of a reason for him to be down there.

An idea struck Merlin as he came up to his cabin door and he mentally smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He could test out his master key card on his own door and see if it worked. He really should have done it sooner. Granted he had been worried enough as it was seeing as his whole plan was riddled with holes and poorly thrown together last minute that he hadn't really thought of all the logistics through. Or at all. Arthur would probably berate him for his poor investigating skills and lack of self-preservation.

Merlin swiped the master key card through the electronic lock and waited with baited breath.

A beat passed, then two before the door gave an angry beep and a red light denied him entrance. Merlin's heart sank. So much for the simple way in. Time for plan B and really, the only plan he had left.

Still facing his door, Merlin glanced up and down the corridor. It was still empty, the only sound being the gentle constant hum of the ship. He squared his shoulders and started walking down the corridor toward Mordred's cabin. He took confident strides and schooled his face into one of casual boredom, as though he was doing something he did every day. As if he was supposed to be there, had a purpose for being so far from his own room.

The corridor remained thankfully empty as Merlin finally stopped in front of Mordred's door and knocked. The quick raps against the heavy door echoed their accusations down the hall for all to hear.

That was it, his brilliant plan B. Knock and hope Cedric was there to answer the door.

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd say to Cedric if the man happened to open the door. 'Can I snoop around Mordred's stuff to see if he's a murderer' surely wouldn't gain him entrance. He'd have to come up with some excuse, something that would get Cedric out of the room while leaving Merlin there.

He waited outside in the corridor, listening for any sound of life beyond the door but the natural noise of the ship drowns anything out. Giving the door another rapt knock after a minute, Merlin felt his hope wane as his anxiousness spiked. He felt alone and exposed out in the corridor, standing there for anyone to stumble upon and start questioning. He was a sitting duck out here.

A soft click was the only warning Merlin had before the door opened and Cedric squinted out at him from his dimly lit room beyond.

"Merlin?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep. Apparently he had been napping after all. Go figure.

"Um, hi yeah," Merlin sputtered, trying desperately to organize his thoughts and quickly come up with an excuse. He shoved his hands into his slacks pockets, hoping that Cedric hadn't noticed the slight tremble that had arose. "Mary wants to see you in the kitchen of the buffet."

It was the first thing that had popped into his head. Mary, being the head chef on board and in charge of the Gold Pearl Restaurant on the Atlantic Deck, was the one person Cedric wouldn't hesitate to report to if summoned. Granted she didn't make a habit of loitering around the buffet on the Lido Deck but she had been known to pop her head in there from time to time—rumor was she was sweet on the head chef there, Pablo—despite her disdain toward the buffet eatery. But the buffet was several decks above the restaurant and more toward the aft. It would take Cedric longer to get there and back and give Merlin more time.

Cedric blinked, brow pinched in confusion. "What? Why?"

"I didn't ask," Merlin said with a shrug. His right hand brushed against something that crinkled in his pocket, remembering the toilet paper rapper he had shoved there earlier when making his rounds. He crumpled it up, folding it between his forefinger and thumb, an idea forming in his head. "Just was told to pass along the message."

Cedric huffed in annoyance, turning back into the dim room. With the man's back to him, Merlin stepped forward and leaned casually on the door frame, preventing the door from swinging back closed in his face. He leaned on the frame at an angle, making sure his body hid the latch slot built into the door frame from Cedric's view. With quick but careful and subtle movements of his right hand, Merlin took the now wadded up wrapper and poked it into the latch slot, effectively filling the small space.

God, he hoped this worked.

With jacket in hand, Cedric turned to leave and Merlin stepped back out into the corridor. He watched as Cedric exited the door, gave Merlin a quick nod before striding off down the corridor, not even bothering to look back or ensure that his door closed all the way.

Merlin released a sigh of relief as Cedric disappeared around the corner into the center hallway. He took a few calming breaths, trying to bring his racing heartbeat down to a normal level in vain. It wasn't over yet. Now came the moment of truth.

He turned back toward the door and gave it a little nudge. It didn't budge. Merlin pushed bit harder, adding more and more pressure until finally, with a good shove, the door swung inward. Merlin nearly cried in relief.

He had seen the trick done in a movie once. Fill the slot the door latch usually caught in and voila, the door won't be able to lock properly when closed. Honestly, he hadn't thought would work.

Quickly, Merlin ducked into the room, only pausing to briefly extract the wad of wrapper from the latch slot before letting the door close behind him with a soft click. He was in.

There was no time to waste. Merlin had at most three minutes—five if he was lucky—before Cedric came back to his room, confused and even more annoyed at being woken up for a non-existent summons. By then Merlin had to be elsewhere, hopefully with proof of Mordred's guilt. After all this trouble and all that he was risking just being here, he couldn't leave empty handed. There had to be something.

Merlin flicked on the overhead light. Harsh yellow light flooded the space, illuminating the small space and dark blue carpeting. The room was an exact replica of Merlin's own cabin, cramped, long and narrow. A small faux wood wardrobe and drawers were built into the right wall next to the door, one drawer on the bottom open with various article of clothing spilling out. A matching fold-down desk littered with empty cans, wrappers, and various personal items hugged the wall directly opposite the wardrobe. Two beds protruded from the right wall just beyond the built-in wardrobe, one suspended over the other with barely half a yard between the side of the beds and the left wall. The bedsheets were haphazardly thrown and in disarray with more articles of clothing thrown about on the bottom bunk.

Clearly neither of these men cared about organization.

Heading straight for the wardrobe, Merlin quickly threw it open but still careful enough so as not to put anything out of place too much. With the state of the cabin already, Merlin doubted either of the occupants would notice if something were just slightly out of place but Merlin didn't want to take that risk. Especially if hi and Arthur's suspicions were true and Mordred turned out to be Morgana's killer.

Merlin scanned the wardrobe's contents, not really sure what he was looking for. Something incriminating. Maybe stolen security tapes or drugs or hell a diary. But the likelihood of Mordred writing incriminating murder plots and scenarios in a diary was just as likely as him keeping a diary. Mainly, none. A hiding place perhaps? Somewhere not too out in the open where someone would easily spot it or stumble upon it.

Merlin dug at the bottom, pushing aside wrinkled clothes and dirty socks to find the bottom of the wardrobe then ran his hands along the base to the back wall. Some crew members kept small safes or locked cases for personal or private information to be stored. Perhaps Mordred had one.

Merlin continued to run his hands along the inside of the wardrobe before moving on to the drawers below. He had no idea which one belonged to Mordred and which belonged to Cedric so he just started with the topmost and opened it up. Socks, underwear and various other articles were jumbled together inside with no order to them. Merlin dug through them, feeling for abnormalities and along the bottom and top of the drawer for anything taped there. Nothing.

With a sigh, he rearranged the mess he made back into what it had looked like before. A sock bundle now lay at the top that he hadn't seen there before and he pushed it to the bottom. The bundle made a crinkling sound.

Frowning, Merlin extracted the socks. They were just a standard pair of white crew socks, plain with no logo or brand on them. He unfurled them and shook them out. A small ziplock bag crinkled as it hit the floor at Merlin's feet.

The bag was about two inches tall, clear and ziplock sealed. Merlin carefully picked it up, examining the contents. A handful of small white tablets lay inside, unmarked except for a single line across the diameter on one side. It was a drug Merlin was unfamiliar with, not that he was familiar with a lot of drugs. He knew one date rape drug had the letters ROCHE etched onto one side but without any markings whatsoever on these drugs, there was no way to tell. Plus, these could very well be Cedric's drugs as much as they could be Mordred's. He just had no way of telling.

A wave of dejectedness swept over Merlin suddenly. What was he doing? He had lied to a coworker, broken into someone's private quarters, and was rifling through their personal things all for what? In the hopes that that he found something that was maybe Mordred's? There were no neon signs, no nice neat labels telling him which drawer were Mordred's, no obvious indication at all. It was a pointless endeavor.

Arthur was right, he shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have risked it. Nothing he found here would hold up in court, none of it could be used as evidence. He was obtaining it illegally and without permission. Beside, no one would believe him if he told them where he got it. He had no proof. For all anyone knew, he was the perpetrator trying to pinning it on someone else.

He needed to get out there.

Merlin took out a tablet on impulse and put it in his pocket before quickly stashing them back inside the socks and bundled the two back up together. He shoved the socks back into the bottom of the drawer and closed it, leaving it just the way it had been. Quickly, he scanned the room, making sure everything was as he had found it. It was as his eyes fell on the bed that he hadn't touched that something caught his eye. A small corner of what looked like a piece of paper stuck out from the depths of the bottommost bed's pillow case.

Curiosity won over his desire to leave and he rushed over to the bed and pulled out the paper inside. It had weight to it, more than Merlin was expecting as he pulled out a whole magazine from the pillowcase. No, not just a magazine. Porn. The page he had originally pulled at depicted a naked woman posed lewdly on a fluffy white carpet, her body completely exposed.

Merlin scrunched up his nose and closed the magazine, searching for the name and address of the owner of the material. Then he found it, printed neatly on the bottom of the cover

Mordred Slater.

It was the first piece in this entire room that Merlin could safely say belonged to Mordred. Which meant the bottom bed was Mordred's as well. Merlin rooted through the rest of the pillowcase, hoping to find something else hidden there but came up empty-handed.

Merlin sighed, pushing the magazine back into the pillowcase the way he had found it. Though it was definitely Mordred's it wasn't incriminating evidence. All it told him was that Mordred was a straight guy who enjoyed the female form. He could probably find similar magazines hidden in most of the other male crew bunks if he looked.

With the small white tablet in his pocket as his only tentative evidence, Merlin made his way to the door and paused, listening. Just as it had been when he was waiting outside the door, all Merlin could hear was the hum of the ship. No voices, to heavy footfalls, nothing. He wasn't confident that it meant there was no one out there but unless he wanted to get caught inside the cabin by Cedric, or Mordred himself, he had to chance it.

Carefully, Merlin turned the handle and eased the door open a crack. The soft click of the handle sounded deafening but he pushed through knowing there was nothing he could do. He just had to hope no one was out there.

Maneuvering his body so he was directly next to the door opening, Merlin peeked through the gap he had just made. Further down the corridor he could just make out the retreating back of a crewmember. He waited, watching them as they stopped by a cabin door, unlocked it and disappeared inside. The thud as the door closed resounded down the corridor, signaling the all clear Merlin had been waiting for.

He quickly opened the door and dashed out, not even waiting for the door to finish closing behind him before he was speeding down the corridor and into the safety of his own cabin.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** This little trick does work (and I may or may not have actually utilized it for something other than research purposes) but that was a bit ago so I haven't tried the newer doors and locks. But since this ship is a figment of my imagination, I'm claiming author liberties.

In other news, Merlin is really good at thinking things through. Clearly...


	9. Chapter 9

Juneau, Alaska, USA (Third Port of Call)

The cold ocean wind swept passed Arthur's exposed face and he shivered. He shifted his weight on the outer deck, leaning forward on the metal rail to better watch the ship set off from the port at Juneau. It was a sight to behold, the quiet city nestled at the foot of snow-capped mountains awash with a golden yellow of waning sunlight. The sky was for once clear enough that the few soft clouds left were highlighted in brilliant pinks and oranges, giving the view from the cruise ship's deck a perfect backdrop.

Arthur let out a sigh, at a loss of what to do.

He had spent the last few days immersed in the cruise and reliving Morgana's last few days. Skagway had been a new experience for him, traversing the outdoors as he followed in Morgana's footsteps and took a raft tour to the Bald Eagle Preserve down the river. It was something he would have never thought of doing had he taken this trip as a vacation. Then again he would have never chosen this cruise to begin with. But once out of the river, the water misting his face as they sped through it and the guide pointing out all the nesting spots and various bald eagles soaring above their heads, he understood. It was beautiful, seeing these majestic birds that commanded the sky so wild and free. No wonder an entire nation saw them as the perfect embodiment of freedom and justice.

No wonder Morgana had been drawn to this place.

But it wasn't until the cruise ship weaved its way up through Yakutat Bay and pulled alongside Hubbard Glacier that Arthur truly understood the beauty that Alaska had to offer. He had planned to spend the sea day weeding out more information from the crew and focus on doing what he had come here to do. But that had gone to hell when Merlin had strode up to him in the corridor and practically dragged him out onto the freezing cold outer deck.

"Interrogations and investing can wait for an hour," he said. "This, this you'll only get to see once."

Arthur had no idea why anyone would be so thrilled to see a giant block of ice and snow. But one look at the awe dancing through Merlin's eyes and he had a burning desire to see for himself. They rested their forearms on the railing as the ship came up alongside the glacier. The massive wall of ice and snow that had been there, advancing and receding with the seasons over many hundreds of years. Arthur shivered, but whether it was because of the cold or because of his sudden realization of his insignificance in the face of such a nature-made marvel, he didn't know. Merlin's presence sure wasn't helping with that either.

Arthur hadn't even considered the fact that Merlin was standing next to him, in the open, where others could see them. It didn't matter. And when the captain turned off the engines of the ship, allowing the passengers to hear the roar of ice chunks calving off the glacier, Arthur hadn't given a care in the world. The sound was like nothing he had ever witnessed. Beside him, the genuine love and glee that shone on Merlin's face was on par with the wonders of nature happening around him.

Which was the reason he was going to hell.

He had come aboard this vessel with the sole purpose of finding justice for Morgana, of shedding light on the truth behind her disappearance. But instead he had found a cheeky bumbling cabin steward with little sense and a heart the size of a glacier.

And he'd promptly fell head over heels.

Even when he tried to focus on Morgana and finding her killer and figuring out this entire mess, his mind kept wandering back to Merlin. It didn't help that Merlin was a key player in his investigation and his so-called partner in it. Nor that he had been stopping by Arthur's stateroom every day for an hour or more. The guilt was eating him up. He wasn't allowed to spend this time pining over and falling for some boy he had just met. Morgana was dead and she deserved his full attention.

Of course he knew exactly what she would say. He could see her, impeccably dressed from head to toe, arms crossed, leveling him with a glower. If you don't make a move, I'll make it for you. But he still couldn't shake the nagging guilt that he was disrespecting her.

Juneau faded behind another mountain line as the ship turned west and continued on up the wide channel. Arthur gave another sigh, his mind still in turmoil. He couldn't deal with this now.

With the temperature slowly dropping as the sun disappeared below the horizon, Arthur retreated inside and slowly made his way up to the restaurant on the Atlantic deck. It was nearly six, a little early for his time slot in the dining room but hopefully the table would be unoccupied. Cedric, the man who waited on his assigned table, had been a bit distant ever since the first night when Arthur had asked him about Morgana's disappearance. He hadn't turned cold persay, but he definitely wasn't as friendly as he was before. Arthur doubted anything would change tonight but perhaps it was time to try once more.

The minute Arthur sat down he knew he wasn't going to make any headway with Cedric, whether the man knew anything or not. The very air around the waiter buzzed with agitation and his face was lined and set in a permanent frown. Dishes were et with haste and a huff, drinks poured until the cup nearly overflowed, and the specials read with a bite to them. Arthur was sure the waiter wasn't mad at him, he could think of no reason he would be, but something had ticked him off and his mind was constantly elsewhere. It would do no good to ask him anything and may do more harm than good.

So Arthur ate his meal in silence and left quickly, debating if he should try and catch the magic act that was performing that night. Thus far he had avoided the nightly performances in favor of doing more research and going over his notes on Morgana's disappearance. And talking with Merlin.

But no, he shouldn't. He had been slacking lately, going nowhere in the investigation and finding no new leads or anything. And Arthur just felt too high-strung, too on edge after interacting with an agitated Cedric and not having seen Merlin since the night before last. He didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about the cabin steward.

Arthur made a beeline for the lifts, catching one just as it opened and let out its occupants.

He knew he shouldn't worry. Merlin was perfectly fine, just busy. He had told Arthur the long hours they worked on board the ship, how some nights he barely got four hours of sleep. But after he had proposed his plan to break into Mordred's room and snoop around, Arthur had been worried. He wasn't stupid, he knew Merlin would do it despite Arthur's warnings and wishes. If it would help find Morgana's killer, then it was a risk Merlin was willing to take.

It was just one more thing Arthur found both equally frustrating and endearing about the man.

Arthur swiped his card through the lock and with a beep was admitted entrance to his stateroom. He hung his coat up in the closet by the door before turning to face the room

And jumped nearly a meter.

"Merlin, Jesus."

Merlin sat perched on the mattress at the foot of Arthur's bed, having exchanged his uniform for a pair of worn jeans and a faded blue shirt that read CVHS Home of the Eagles.

Merlin's lips twitched, looking like it was taking all he had not to burst out laughing. "I'll take that as adequate payback for you nearly getting me decapitated when we first met."

"If you had a better relationship with gravity, there would be nothing to payback." Arthur retorted.

"If you weren't such a clotpole, I wouldn't have to."

Arthur couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. A spot of warmth formed in his stomach as Merlin mirrored his grin.

"Where have you been?" Arthur asked, striding forward and sitting on the edge of the bed next to Merlin. He pulled one leg up onto the covers and faced Merlin fully, ignoring the cabin steward's raised eyebrow. He made sure his shoes remained off the bedlinens and Merlin's grin turned into a sincere smile.

The warmth ignited into a full-fledged enferno in Arthur's body. He was such a goner.

"Sorry, yesterday was a crazy night." Merlin groaned before flinging out an arm and gesturing in the general direction of the door and the corridor beyond. "The woman down in 1028 was throwing a fit and running me ragged with all her requests. I don't think I escaped until well after two."

"Vivian Lampre?" Arthur asked, picturing the voluptuous blonde woman he had the misfortune of running into the other day.

Merlin nodded, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "You know her?"

"I've interacted with her. She overheard me uh….talking about Morgana's disappearance and decided to voice her own opinions and rehash rumors she had heard. Then proceeded to try and drag me back to her room despite my numerous attempts to turn her down."

The disappointment vanished in place of humor as Merlin chuckled. "Yeah she can be a bit...handsy."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You too?"

"Just a bit." Merlin said. But then he sat up straighter and turned fully toward Arthur, mimicking his pose on the edge of the bed. "But that's not important. Arthur, promise me you won't get mad but I—"

"Went into Mordred's room and had a look around?" Arthur interrupted, crossing his arms.

Merlin at least had the logic to look apologetic. "Uh, yes? Sorry, I had to. It was too important."

Arthur sighed, trying not to show how worried he was. "And did you find anything?"

"Well, yes, and no." He extended his leg and reached a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled something out. There pinched between his thumb and forefinger was a small white tablet, unmarked except for a single line on one side. "I found this in one ot the drawers in his cabin. I can't tell what it is exactly but it's definitely not your run-of-the-mill Advil or Sudafed. It could be rohypnol but without any markings, there's just no way to tell without taking it."

Arthur's heart nearly stopped at Merlin's words, at the insinuation he could hear in them. "No, absolutely not."

Merlin frowned in confusion at Arthur before his eyes widened and cheeks took on a rosy color. "Don't be stupid, I'm not going to take it. I'm not that brainless."

"Could have fooled me," Arthur said, gesturing to the filched tablet in Merlin's hands.

Merlin just rolled his eyes. "The only problem is that I have no way of telling if this belonged to Mordred. It could very well be his roommate's. I only discovered which bed was his because he stashes porn magazines in his pillow addressed to him."

Anger welled up in Arthur suddenly. "So all we know from your little jaunt is that someone in that room has a bag of tablets that may or may not be the date rape drug and that Mordred likes to sleep with porn in his pillow?"

"Um...yes?" Merlin said, looking ashamed. The guilt that rose in Arthur was nearly enough to blot out the anger. But then he thought of the risk Merlin put himself in, the many scenarios that could have unfolded had he been caught or seen. The many scenarios that might still play out. And his overwhelming worry for Merlin boiled over into anger.

"Great," he bit out, "case closed. We have our killer."

Merlin frowned at his tone. "Hey, at least I tried something."

"And you could have gotten yourself killed in the process. Or might still if you had been seen."

"Nobody saw me." Merlin assured him, voice more gentle now. Arthur wondered for a brief second if Merlin could see right through his anger to the truth behind it but he disregarded the thought as Merlin continued. "I got in and out without a problem."

"You don't know that!" Arthur's tone rose and he had to forcefully reign his volume in unless the neighbors overhear. "For all you know, they could be waiting for the right time to take you out."

Merlin's eyes softened, glinting with a hint of concern. "Arthur—"

But Arthur rolled right on through, afraid that if he didn't get the words out, Merlin wouldn't understand, that if he didn't make Merlin see, he would end up dead in the next minute. "You have to be more careful Merlin, you can't keep taking unnecessary risks like this. It's not worth it. This isn't worth losing your life over—"

"Arthur." Arthur closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before meeting Merlin's concerned gaze. "I know it's probably a silly question what with all you have been through but are you alright?"

Arthur opened his mouth to rattle off an affirming lie but he closed it and hesitated. He looked at Merlin, the worry lines in his sharp features and hair in disarray. He looked just as much of a mess as Arthur felt inside, except his eyes, which shone with a concern Arthur hadn't had directed at him in a long time.

Before he knew what he was doing, Arthur leaned forward and captured Merlin's lips with his own in a firm but sincere kiss. He cupped Merlin's cheek gently with one hand, resting his other on the cabin steward's bent knee. His skin was warm and inviting, lips chapped. It wasn't the best kiss he had ever had but it was perfect in its own right. The swarm of butterflies that had taken root in his stomach and his rapidly beating heart was testament enough to that.

Beneath his touch, Merlin tensed. Arthur immediately drew back, shame heating his face. He hadn't meant to force himself on Merlin, hadn't meant to cross the invisible line that had been drawn. He had just been so overwhelmed with worry and then gratitude for this man that he had acted on impulse.

Merlin was staring at Arthur, cheeks beat red, blue eyes wide with shock.

"I am so sorry," Arthur said, raising his hands in apology, "I didn't mean—"

"It's….it's alright. I uh…." Merlin looked over at the door, his body tense, but face still flushed. "I should go." He moved to stand up.

"No wait, Merlin." Arthur scrambled forward, reaching out with one hand instinctively as though to physically stop Merlin from leaving. He retracted his hand immediately, thinking better of it. "I am sorry, truly. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Merlin paused, eyes shining with wariness before slowly, he sat back down. "You didn't. I just….I can't Arthur. It's against the rules to fraternize with guests. I would lose my job."

Arthur knew Merlin's job was nearly all he had. With his father gone, his mother dead and no other family to speak of, the cruise ship and the few people he could call friends were his home. It was a poor substitute, seeing as he barely even trusted his friends here, but they were all he had. Arthur couldn't even imagine what it must be like for him.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm the one who initiated it." Though he hadn't planned to. But that didn't matter. He didn't want to be the reason that Merlin got fired. Didn't mean it didn't hurt though. "And besides, aren't you off the clock?" he finished, hoping to soothe the ache of rejection with a logical answer.

Merlin gave him a sad smile. "I'm always on the clock as long as I'm on board the ship."

"So ashore…" Arthur tried to joke but it fell flat with the hope in his tone. He had put himself out there and now he had to deal with the heartache. No one but himself to blame.

Though if he hadn't made a move, he would have never known if he had a shot or not.

"I can't, Arthur. I'm sorry."

Arthur's heart sank. "Oh. I understand." The job was just an excuse then. He could see it now. His feelings weren't reciprocated. God damn it he might have just ruined their friendship as well.

"No, no no." Merlin said, turning to fully face Arthur. "I like you, I really do. More than you know. But…." He trailed off, biting his lip as if to stop himself from saying the truth.

Arthur sat back, nodding at Merlin trying to keep his face blank to hide the hurt he felt.

Merlin just stayed still, gaze fixed on Arthur, searching his eyes for something. Merlin's face was pinched, the conflict evident in his eyes, but after a few beats he shook his head and leveled Arthur with a heated glare.

"Oh, fuck it."

Arthur's lips were open in question when Merlin kissed him, but the words never came, swallowed in the heat of lips and tongues. Merlin's mouth was soft and warm and Arthur couldn't resist dipping his tongue in, licking at Merlin's own. The cabin steward responded eagerly, pushing against Arthur's body, gripping at him with fervor, hands grasping at the front of his shirt.

He kissed Merlin back, deep, hard and unabashed, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders as he let himself go. Merlin took it, banking the kiss and driving his tongue deeper into Arthur's mouth with his next breath. The kiss was hard and wet, lips crashing together, tongues licking, diving, breeching. He inhaled deeply, tasting Merlin's breath, breathing him in until Arthur was sure he would drown in an ocean of Merlin.

At that moment it didn't seem like such a bad way to go.

"Merlin…." Arthur mumbled against his lips as he felt a hand reach up under his shirt and caress his waist. He needed to say something before they went too far. "Merlin….Merlin stop, stop." He gave Merlin's shoulder a gentle push.

Arthur regretted saying anything immediately when Merlin leapt back as if burned, removing his hands and breaking all contact with Arthur's body. "Sorry, sorry," he said, guilt marring his face.

Arthur chuckled at seeing the role reversed. "No, it's fine. Better than fine in fact." He felt the warmth from Merlin's touches spread to his face, all smiles and glowing happiness. Then he forced himself to sober a bit, wanting Merlin to take his next words seriously. "I just wanted to make sure you are okay with it. That you aren't just….taking pity."

"No, Arthur no." Merlin scooted toward Arthur until their thighs were nearly on top of one another and he placed a reassuring hand on Arthur's knee. The warmth from his touch was just as soothing as his words. "I would be lying if I said I was completely okay with…." He gestured between the two of them and their proximity, "...this, but that's only because I'm still conflicted over the merits of it. I really like you, honestly. And I want you. I want this."

Arthur smiled and nodded, at a loss for words but knowing he didn't need to say anything for Merlin to understand.

Merlin looked over his shoulder toward the clock on the bedside table before letting out a sigh. "I should get back now, before someone comes looking for me."

Arthur knew better than to argue with that. They were still in the middle of a secret investigation and Merlin was the most at risk if he was caught with a single hair out of line. One tryst in Arthur's stateroom wasn't worth it.

Besides, Arthur realized with shock, he wanted more than one tryst. He wanted more, much more. A lifetime, perhaps. It was hard to tell what he felt, what he truly wanted. He hadn't know Merlin for very long, knew only a scant few details about the man here and there. How could he possibly feel this way so soon? It should have been improbable.

And yet here he was, yearning for more with a man he barely knew. As he watched Merlin exit his stateroom, flashing him a brief shy smile goodbye over his shoulder, Arthur knew this was it. He had never felt this sort of desire for anyone so fast before in his life. Hell, he had never felt this way for anyone, ever.

Arthur sighed, falling back onto the bed with a smile on his face. He turned toward the door and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lip at the sight. There next to him on the bed, was one of Merlin's artfully crafted towel animals in the shape of a flying stingray.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** Stingrays represent navigating the complicated emotional waters of life and are meant to lead you in the right direction.


	10. Chapter 10

Sitka, Alaska USA (Fourth Port of Call)

Arthur would be the death of Merlin, he was sure of it.

His mind kept wandering back to the events of the night before. The kiss and subsequent admittance of mutual feelings were more than he could have hoped for. Arthur was more than he could have ever hoped for. He knew it was risky, that he could lose everything should their rendezvous be discovered but he had been toeing that line this whole voyage by helping Arthur with his investigation. What was one more risk to add to his ever growing list? He wanted this, he had wanted this ever since he had met up with Arthur in that small cafe in Ketchikan but never thought it was even possible. But it had happened.

And no amount of cleaning, scrubbing, or vacuuming could drive thoughts of Arthur from his mind.

Which lead to his current predicament. Merlin picked up his pace as his hand gave another aching throb. He winced and added more pressure to the towel staunching the blood, pain shooting through the limb briefly. Merlin shook his head at his own stupidity. He hadn't been paying attention, replaying the events of last night and fantasising about the future. Next thing he knew there was the sound of glass breaking and a sharp pain in his hand. Then blood, lots of blood.

Merlin sighed as he made his way down the corridor to the medical bay. Just before he reached the door, it opened and Merlin nearly ran right into Gwen.

"Merlin? What are you doing down here?" She paused when she saw Merlin, eyes furrowed in confusion before flicking down to the towel cupped in his hand. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah I just nicked myself on a broken glass." He held up his hand as if to emphasize his point but quickly lowered it again when it gave a dull throb.

Gwen's eyes widened with concern. "Oh god. Are you alright? Do you need any help?"

"No Gwen, thanks," Merlin said. He flashed her a reassuring smile to placate her. She could be a real mother hen sometimes and he was already behind on his work for the day thanks to his daydreaming. "Probably only needs a few stitches. If you see Cenred though, can you let him know? Otherwise he'll think I'm shirking."

An understanding smile crossed Gwen's face and she nodded. "Oh, yes, of course." Everyone knew how Cenred could get. Injured or not, Merlin would be required to finish his rounds in a timely manner.

"Thank you." Merlin leaned forward and kissed her cheek before ducking inside the medical bay.

The smell of antiseptic and cleanliness hit him first and Merlin had to force himself not to turn around and leave. A good chunk of his late teens had been spent in and out of hospitals by his mother's side as she fought off the cancer that eventually claimed her life. It had helped him slowly build up an animosity toward hospitals and doctors that he had yet to shake.

Lance was the only exception.

"Merlin?" Lance looked up from the cabinet he was currently restocking, his eyes going wide, body tensing slightly. The place was empty, the two crisp white beds made and unoccupied and Dr. Muriden absent from his usual post in the swivel chair next to the small counter in the corner. "What are you doing down here?"

Merlin raised his injured hand, bloody towel and all and winced. "Cut myself on some broken glass."

Some of the tension left Lance's shoulders at Merlin's words as he gave Merlin an easy smile. "Yes, of course. Come in, let's have a look." He pulled up a disposable sheet to cover the nearest cot and patted it in invitation.

Merlin took a steadying breath as he made his way further into the medical bay and sat down on the cot. His stomach rolled with unease, instinct screaming at him to leave now but Merlin remained still. He tried to relax but his body rigid. Logically, he knew this wasn't the same situation, knew that Lance was only there to help and heal his injury but his mind kept flashing back to his mother, pale and weak under white hospital sheets. He couldn't repress the shudder than ran through him.

"Are you feeling alright?" Lance asked, breaking Merlin from his turmoil. "You look pale. Well more so than you should considering."

"Yeah," Merlin said with a humorless chuckle. "Just not a big fan of hospitals."

"Ah, understandable." Merlin hadn't told Lance directly about his history with hospitals but he wouldn't be surprised if Gwen had. The two love birds seemed to s hare everything these days. "I'll be as quick as I can, I promise."

Merlin could only manage to nod as Lance began unwrapping the towel from around his hand and exposed the cut beneath. He hissed as the edge of his wound stuck to the towel.

"You got yourself pretty good, I see." Lance turned his hand a little, peering at the wound closer. He held Merlin's hand gently but with assurance. "Will need a couple of stitches I'm afraid."

Merlin nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. His stomach rolled with a mixture of anxiety and nausea at the sight of the slice on his hand. He hadn't thought it was that bad when it had happened, and had even contemplated just wrapping it up and continuing on. After taking a better look at it, he was glad he had forced himself to come down here. It was much too deep to let it heal on its own.

Lance gave him a friendly smile and a reassuring pat on the back before turning away and retrieving his tools from a drawer across the room. Merlin's stomach rolled once more at the sight of the needle and thread on the tray Lance brought back over. He liked to pride himself in having a decent pain tolerance and a strong stomach for blood and gore—his mother would always berate him for watching crime shows during dinner—but there was something different about feeling and seeing it on his own body.

"Are you okay?" Lance's face was drawn with concern as he studied Merlin. "Do you need something for the pain?"

"No, no just…" Merlin winced as Lance gently took ahold of his hand again.

"Get it over with?" Lance finished with an understanding smile.

Merlin nodded. "Please."

Lance picked up the needle and Merlin looked away, not sure if he could stomach watching. His eyes looked about the room as he felt a sharp pinch in his hand and grimaced. This was not going to be fun.

Merlin's gaze fell upon the cabinet Lance had been stocking, no lock no safety measures at all to keep people from rummaging through. What if someone came by when no one was here? It would be easy pickings for sure. Supplies, tools, medications drugs.

Merlin nearly gasped as a thought struck him and he turned back to his friend.

"Lance, are there any drugs in here that could be used as a date rape drug?" The second the words were out, Merlin regretted them. It sounded too eager, too excited for an answer as though he wanted to use the knowledge to commit the very crime he was trying to solve. He should really think before he speaks. If he had, his relationship with Arthur would have never progressed and Merlin wouldn't be sitting here right now getting stitches in his hand.

But again, his relationship with Arthur would have never progressed.

If Lance hadn't been the trained professional he was, Merlin was sure he would have jumped in shock at Merlin's question. It was a near thing as it was.

"What? Why would you ask that?" His shocked stare bore into Merlin' eyes, searching for something. When he didn't seem to find what he was looking for, a humorless chuckle slipped into place and he raised an eyebrow. "Not planning something, are you Merlin?"

"No, god no." Merlin didn't really know whether he should be offended Lance would think him the kind of person or be happy that he seemed unnerved by Merlin's questioning. He pushed the thoughts aside and scrambled to construct a lie. "Uh Sefa thought she had been drugged the other night and I was trying to think where someone could have gotten their hands on such a drug."

There was every chance someone could have smuggled any number of drugs on board that would have done the trick but Merlin couldn't help but wonder if the killer's supply hadn't come from the medical bay. A free prepackaged onboard drug supply. If some had gone missing and there was video surveillance…

Merlin tried to bury his hope under logic. The chances of that were very slim. Smuggling drugs onboard wouldn't be too hard if someone was determined. And stealing from the medical bay supply wouldn't have been easy. He was sure all drugs were kept under lock and key just like in an actual hospital.

Merlin sucked in a breath as Lance worked the needle through his hand and pulled another stitch through. "Ketamine has been known to be used as a date rape drug but I keep logs of all the drugs we carry and have used and none have ever gone missing."

Merlin's mind kept whirling even as his hope fizzled a bit.

"Of course," Merlin said with a breathless laugh as Lance pulled another stitch through. "Just wanted to make sure. She probably just forgot how much she had to drink." Despite it being a lie, the words still left a bad taste in his mouth. He sounded too much like all those articles that victim blame rape victims and it made him sick.

The stubborn side of Merlin couldn't help but think that Lance could still be wrong. Lance might not notice one of two pills disappearing out of a bottle of fifty or however many there were. If he didn't count each and every pill left in that bottle during every log check, how was he to know if a few had gone missing? There were a few staff who worked down in the medical bay who would have access to the drug cabinets. Who was to say one of them hadn't palmed a few to make a buck?

Or one of them could be the culprit themself.

Merlin tuned back in just as Lance nodded in agreement with a small chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised in the least."

Merlin turned the conversation to mundane cruiseship matters after that as Lance finished stitching up his hand. He wrapped it up carefully afterwards, advising Merlin to keep it dry and to not strain it too much or he'd pull his stitches and he'd have to come back to get them put in again. There was no way Merlin would let that happen. One trip to the medical bay was enough.

Besides, he had the information he wanted.

With a thank you, Merlin bid Lance farewell and escaped out into the hallway. He studied his hand, wrapped in gauze and throbbing ever so slightly. There was no he could hide this from Arthur.

Merlin sighed. He just hoped Arthur wasn't as much of a mother hen as Gwen.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** Merlin isn't always the smartest kid in school. Just wait for it...


	11. Chapter 11

International Waters off the Coast of Canada

"What hell happened?!" Arthur said, just barely keeping his voice below a shout. He carefully cradled Merlin's bandaged hand, shocked to see multiple layers of white gauze across his palm.

"You did," Merlin muttered, his voice so low Arthur almost didn't hear him. But before Arthur could say anything, Merlin smiled and continued with a chuckle. "I cut it on a broken glass when cleaning out room 1029. Had to get a few stitches."

A pang of concern hit Arthur and he turned Merlin's hand over in an attempt to distract himself. God, this man would be the death of him, he just knew it. He had known Merlin for not even a fortnight and yet his feelings for him were already so deeply rooted in his heart. And that's what scared Arthur the most. The hold this man had on him could melt glaciers and build mountains.

"Jesus, Merlin. Are you alright?" Arthur asked, trying not to let the concern ebb into his tone.

With the fond look Merlin shot him, he knew he had failed. "I'm fine. Just a scratch," Merlin said with a flippant gesture of his good hand. Then his eyes lit up. "I have something more important to tell you though."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

He didn't know what he was expecting, why all the sudden his pulse seemed to skyrocket with anticipation and hope. The effect of their little snogging session had definitely left him in a constant state of worry, hope, and exhilaration that left him unable to focus on anything all day. He had tried to go over his notes, tried to track down and question more people, but after an hour he knew his heart wasn't in it. It had been with a certain cabin steward somewhere on the ship.

Arthur hadn't realized he had started stroking Merlin's hand until the cabin steward pulled it back gently with a grimace. "Sorry," he immediately apologized, snatching his own hands away as though burned.

"It's fine." Merlin walked further into Arthur's stateroom before turning around to pace the length or the room, animated. "As I was down in the medical bay, it dawned on me that we hadn't even considered that the killer could have gotten the drugs used on Morgana from the ship's own supply. So I asked Lance if there was any drugs they carried that could be used as a date rape drug."

"You what?!" Arthur shouted.

Merlin ignored Arthur's outburst and continued on, face alight and eyes glistening with excitement. "And he mentioned Ketamine. Though he says he keeps a log and says no drugs have gone missing. But what if….what if someone has been taking one or two pills from the bottle? How would he know unless he counted every pill there."

Arthur interrupted Merlin with a fond shake of his head. "Ketamine is injected, Merlin."

"What?" Merlin halted mid pace at the foot of the bed.

"It's not a pill, it's a liquid that's injected into the bloodstream." Arthur sighed. He didn't want to break Merlin's excitement about a possible lead, but on the other hand, he found it absolutely endearing that Merlin could get it so wrong. It was too cute, Merlin was too cute. Fuck. Arthur cleared his throat, feeling heat creep onto his face. "So, yes, they would definitely know if a whole vial had gone missing."

"Damnit," Merlin said, his shoulders slumping in defeat, eyes losing their spark. It broke Arthur's heart. "Never mind then, I've got nothing," he sighed, running a hand over his face as if to further wash away his excitement. Then he looked up and met Arthur's eyes with a questioning gaze. "How do you know that?"

Hands in his pockets, Arthur shrugged. "My mate Leon is a Paramedic." And did he have some tales to tell. Arthur remembered fondly the times they would hang out at the pub around the corner, drinking beer and trading stories, Arthur's about working under his father and the pressures he endured, Leon's about the crazy shit he had seen and the antics of his coworkers. Later on, they expanded to include stories about Morgana and her and Leon's blossoming relationship.

Merlin stared at Arthur in amazement. "I spent every day after school at the hospital with my mother and I hardly picked up a thing. I should have known." His face fell, defeated.

Arthur winced. "I'm sorry." He hadn't meant for this to take a sensitive turn. Though he knew Merlin's mother had passed years ago, he also knew it was still raw. Merlin had brought it up but still, Arthur felt guilty. He didn't ever want to be the reason to cause Merlin any pain.

"What? Why?" Merlin looked confused for a beat before realization softened his gaze. "Oh no it's," he paused, giving a half-hearted shrug, "it is what it is."

"I lost my mother too," Arthur blurted out, unable to stop himself in revealing a common thread they shared, despite its morbid theme. "But she died when I was still in nappies so I don't even remember her."

Merlin's face crumbled into sympathy, stepping forward to lay a comforting hand on Arthur's forearm. "I'm sorry."

No, no that was all wrong, he hadn't said it to garner sympathy from Merlin. Guilt immediately swallowed Arthur whole and he gasped out loud with the realization of what his words sounded like.

"No, fuck sorry," he said quickly, shaking his head. "That doesn't even begin to compare. I'm not sure why I said it. It was stupid."

Merlin slipped his good hand down Arthur's forearm, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake, until their hands slotted together, fingers interwoven. His hand was warm and soft and Arthur had an incredible urge to pull Merlin against him and never let him go.

Merlin gave Arthur hand a reassuring squeeze. "No it wasn't. I like learning more about you." He met Arthur's gaze, nothing but sincerity swimming in his eyes. Arthur melted.

On a whim, Arthur leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin's lips, searching, asking, hoping that it was alright. This close, a scent of cleaner with subtle lavender undertones invaded Arthur's senses, followed quickly by something that was solely Merlin's own. He breathed deeply, getting lost in the feel, the smell, the everything of this man and hoped his advances were not unwanted.

His heart lifted as Merlin responded eagerly, opening his mouth and inviting Arthur's tongue in.

It lasted all of three seconds before Merlin pulled back and leveled Arthur with mischief in his eyes. "Don't think you'll get more from me until you have earned it, Pendragon."

"Oh?" Arthur snaked his arms around Merlin's waist and pulled his body flush against his. "And how might I be able to earn it?"

"Like I said, I like learning about you," Merlin said with a smirk, tracing two fingers down Arthur's neck to the opening of his shirt. Arthur shivered at his touch. "So what's your favorite color?"

Arthur would have laughed if he hadn't been so turned on by the heat in Merlin's eyes. "Red."

Merlin gave Arthur a once over, taking in the dark red button down he was currently wearing before meeting Arthur's eyes again with a raised brow. Arthur shrugged. He liked red, so sue him.

Merlin rolled his eyes playfully before diving back in for a long drawn-out sensual kiss.

Arthur had to force himself to pull away after a minute. "Ah ah ah," he chastised with mock sternness. "You're getting more out of this than me. Have to be able to give as well." Merlin's brow raised, his reddened lips pulled into an amused smirk. Arthur has to restrain himself from diving back in. But he couldn't give up the game. "What's your favorite food?"

Merlin seemed to contemplate the question for a bit, teasing, drawing out the suspense, until Arthur huffed in annoyance and a smile broke out on Merlin's face. "Anything mexican," he said. "It becomes a staple living in Los Angeles."

Arthur chuckled as he leaned in. "I'll have to take your word for it," he breathed before slipping their lips together once more.

Merlin met him, mouth open, tongue ready, sliding it against Arthur's and deep into Arthur's mouth. The jump from sensual to downright filthy was strong and fast but Arthur quickly caught up, letting his hands roam down Merlin's back and giving his ass a hard squeeze as he pulled Merlin closer to him. Merlin let out a breathy groan against his lips.

"What do you do?" Merlin asked against Arthur's lips, eyes lidded, breath nearly ragged.

Arthur trailed his lips down Merlin's neck, leaving gooseflesh and kisses in his wake. "I'm the VP of my father's e-commerce company based out of London."

"The accent gave it away," Merlin said, the words nothing more than an exhalation of shuttering breath. Under Arthur's ministrations, Merlin's flesh pimpled and when he flicked his tongue in the shell of Merlin's ear, a low whine escaped his lips. Apparently, Merlin was a responsive partner. And sensitive.

Arthur's cock hardened at the thought of exploring just how far he could push Merlin before he became overloaded.

"Does it?" Arthur said with a smirk as he nipped down and then back up Merlin's neck and along his jaw to his lips. "Never knew."

Merlin surged forward, the intensity nearly knocking Arthur over. He turned with it instead until his back was to the bed and Merlin was pushing him toward it. Arthur gave no resistance.

He flopped down face up onto the bed, bouncing slightly with the mattress springs. Merlin fell with him, landing on top of him, all elbows and knees and completely arousing. Arthur gasped as Merlin's hip rubbed up against his hardening cock sending a thrill of pleasure through him. Merlin looked down at the bulge in Arthur's pants, then looked back up with a smirk and met Arthur's eyes. He moved his hip once more, harder, purposeful.

"Merlin," Arthur growled.

"Arthur." Merlin raised an eyebrow, smirk still in place. The tease.

"Any hobbies?" Arthur could barely get the word out through gritted teeth as Merlin continued to rub against him. With another growl, Arthur pushed him off, using the momentum to switch their positions until he had Merlin pinned to the bed.

Merlin let out a surprised "Oh" before Arthur claimed his mouth once more, silencing any response he may have had. Merlin answered by driving his tongue into Arthur's mouth, meeting his own and they slid together, mouths open, lips working against each other.

"Ah fuck" Merlin breathed as Arthur sucked his way down his chest, plucking his shirt buttons open as he went.

Arthur chuckled, popping the last button open and pushing Merlin's shirt down off his shoulders. "That's an interesting hobby," he said with a smirk.

Merlin rolled his eyes, his breathing labored and face flushed with arousal. "Gardening? Working with my hands, generally." As if it emphasize his point, he made short work of Arthur's shirt, tossing it off the bed and running his hands along the planes of Arthur's stomach, the soft banadages of his injured hand a strange contrast to his heated skin. Arthur shivered under his touch.

"And yet, you work on a cruise ship," Arthur pointed out, nipping at Merlin's lips in between words. He let his own hands wander down to Merlin's trousers, feeling the hardness growing beneath and thumbing at the button, teasing. "Not much space for gardening."

Merlin gasped at his touch. "Got to make a living somehow."

Arthur popped open Merlin's trousers and lowered the zip, careful to only give the lightest of touches where they mattered most. He could feel Merlin tensing, his fingers digging into Arthur's skin, growing impatient as Arthur teased him further and further. It drove his own arousal with every huff and impatient noise. "Do you—"

"Arthur," Merlin growled, pushing his cock up into Arthur's hands, and shucking his trousers off completely. "Just shut up and do something already."

Arthur couldn't help it. He laughed, so taken with Merlin and his antics. And damn was he pleased he could affect Merlin just as strongly as Merlin was affecting him. It was arousing in it's own way. "What do you want?"

"Anything, everything, I don't care, just stop teasing." Merlin shimmed on top the bed, his body chasing Arthur's touch as he himself ran impatient hands along Arthur's trousers, trying and failing to push them off his hips with only one working hand. He growled again. "I can't—shit!"

In one swift movement, Arthur reached in and took Merlin in his hand, giving him a quick pump. Merlin's breathing became more labored, his hands clenching in the fabric of Arthur's trousers, mission forgotten.

"What do you want, Merlin?" he asked again.

"I—" he gasped as Arthur stroked him again. "I want you to fuck me."

Arthur nodded, his strokes never faltering. "I can do that."

"I bet you can," Merlin said, breathless. He moved his hands again, finally managing to find Arthur's fly and open his trousers. Together, they shimmied Arthur out of his trousers and pants, all the while Arthur kept a steady pace jerking Merlin off.

"You better stop or I'll never make it there," Merlin gasped, eyes meeting Arthur's.

And Arthur fell.

This wasn't Arthur's first lover, wasn't the first man he had taken to his bed or convoluted with in a dark room. But it was the first time he had truly felt more than lust. Merlin was more than just a warm body, more than a comfort to Arthur's lonely heart. He was beautiful and deep and caring and someone Arthur didn't want to let go of.

He hoped he never had to.

Merlin pushed and kicked his pants off until they joined Arthur's own on the stateroom floor, his naked body now on full display. Arthur sat back and spared a minute to take him in, all lean lines and sharp edges with a splattering of dark hair across his chest leading down to his groin. Body flushed, sweat beading on his skin, cock red and hard and wanting.

"You're beautiful," he mused.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Merlin said. And he bent his knees and spread his legs in invitation. "Do you...have anything?"

Arthur groaned at the sight and nodded. He took a second to reach across to his bag, rummaging around until he found the lube and condoms he always kept stashed there. He hadn't even thought about it packing them, having no reason to think he need such things on a trip like this. Thank god he never truly unpacked from his last trip.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur. "Someone is prepared."

"By accident, really." Arthur said with a shrug. Without preamble, he tore open the condom and rolled it on. Merlin chuckled at his antics.

"Happy accident."

Arthur smiled leaning over Merlin to pull him into another kiss, more soft and sensual but with the same need and desire driving him. He fumbled around the other side of the bed, pulling a pillow back with him as he sat back again.

"Up," he said, nudging at Merlin's hips. Merlin obeyed with an amused grin and Arthur slipped the pillow beneath his hips. Merlin adjusted himself until he was comfortably situated.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him. "Good?"

Merlin groaned, throwing his head back and mussing up his dark hair. "I'd be better if you'd get on with it. Such a tease."

Arthur smirked, tracing his fingers down Merlin's ribs in feather-light touches. "Sorry if I want to make sure you are comfortable."

"What a gentleman," Merlin gritted out, his fingers digging into Arthur's thighs.

With that, Arthur popped open the lube and squirted some onto his finger before reaching down to Merlin's waiting hole. Merlin's breath hitched and his hole twitched under Arthur's gentle touch, his finger swirling around the edges of Merlin's pucker before he pushed in. He pumped in once, twice, making sure the lube generously coated Merlin inside and out before he sat back and wiped the rest on his own cock.

"Ready?"

Merlin nodded, eyes shining with need. "Good god, yes."

Arthur leaned over Merlin, lined himself up, and pushed in. Merlin sucked in a breath, his hands moving from Arthur's thighs to his hip, to finally his flank, finding a stabilizing hold as Arthur pulled back out and pushed in bit by bit. On the next inward thrust he fumbled to lift his legs, finally succeeding in locking his ankles around Arthur's back for a better angle. They both groaned in unison with the next thrust of Arthur's hips. Merlin was tight, but his body slowly began opening up with every slow measured shallow thrust from Arthur and soon they found a rhythm, pushing and pulling and rocking together, their moans and grunts and heavy breathing filling the stateroom.

"Fuck Merlin," Arthur breathed out as he finally bottomed out, his groin nestled between Merlin's thighs. They took a minute to lie there and catch their breath, twined together in arms and legs and groins. Arthur lowered his head down next to Merlin's, listening to him breathe through his arousal. He nipped at Merlin's ear briefly before pulling out a little and slamming back in.

Merlin gasped, hands fumbling and grasping desperately. "Arthur."

Arthur picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster, chasing release and delighting in the feel of Merlin beneath him, meeting him, just as hungry and needy and breathless as he was. He could feel it building, the tension in his groin as he thrust faster, and he reached down and took Merlin in hand, stripping him in sync with their movements. Merlin keened, fingers digging hard into Arthur's ribs and with a few more thrusts and pumps of his hand, Merlin was coming, painting his stomach in stripes. Arthur wasn't too far behind, nearly blind as waves of pleasure coursed through him in a strong orgasm.

When he had finally caught his breath, Arthur gently pulled out and tossed the condom aside, before grabbing a small washcloth off the bedside table and rolling over to clean Merlin off. Merlin was breathing hard, eyes shut, arm flung over his forehead. But a smile graced his lips, like he had just shared a joke. He shivered as Arthur wiped him off.

"Do you enjoy it though?" Arthur asked, their previous conversation coming back to him at the sight of Merlin so relaxed and happy. He was intrigued by this cabin steward, caring and dedicated, determined to do what was right even when he himself was at risk. "Working here, I mean."

"It's a job," Merlin sighed, his smile disappearing and Arthur immediately regretted bringing the topic back up. "And I won't complain about that. I thought it would be fun to work on a cruise. Get to travel the world, have room and board and food provided. But it's—" Merlin sunk into the comforter, seeming to age five years in two seconds, "—it's exhausting. I haven't slept a full six hours a night in over three months. And the pay is shit."

Arthur threw the washcloth toward the tile entryway and lay down beside Merlin, facing him. "Then why are you still here?"

Merlin shrugged. "I need the job. I never went to college—couldn't afford it—and I just, I have nowhere else to go."

"What about family or friends?"

Merlin shook his head, moving his arm down to his side and opening his eyes. But he didn't meet Arthur's gaze. "Never knew my dad. Mom died when I was eighteen. I didn't," he frowned up at the ceiling, "I couldn't deal with it. Ended up pushing my friends away, ignoring them, until they all just disappeared from my life." He waved his good hand in a dismissive gesture, not cruel, just matter-of-fact. "They went off to college while I buried my mother. Got odd jobs here and there, all menial, all falling through for one reason or another. Money dried up, couldn't afford rent and I ended up living on the streets for a bit before I finally landed a job as a housekeeper at a motel. But with rent and bills and all, the money seemed to disappear as fast as I could earn it. So when a coworker talked about how his cousin worked on cruise ships, room and board and food included, I jumped on it." Merlin stared up at the ceiling and sighed. "It's hard work, long hours and not the best pay but I've got a place to sleep and food to eat and I get to travel. A hell of a lot better than my stint on the streets."

Arthur's heart ached. He hadn't thought to consider what sort of past Merlin had, what had led him to the predicament he found himself in. He was well and truly stuck, cornered by a corporation who cared more about profit than human life. Though, that seemed to be the way of the world. It was sickening.

"Stop it."

Arthur blinked, unaware he had spaced out. In that time, Merlin had turned his head toward Arthur and was staring back at him. "Stop what?" Arthur asked, frowning.

"Looking at me like that." Merlin's eyes hardened, not angry, but more determined in his conviction. "I'm not a lost soul who needs saving. I can take care of myself."

Arthur just about melted. Even if nothing ever came from this, he knew he'd never find another like Merlin. That no matter where his future took him, Merlin would always be the flame he'd hold others up to.

"I never said you couldn't." he said with a shake of his head.

Merlin stared at him for a beat, his brow knit in confusion at something he found in Arthur's own gaze. Arthur didn't try to hide, just bared himself open like Merlin had not a moment ago to him, and let it show.

A beat passed, then two before Merlin's brow deepened into a frown and he pushed at Arthur's shoulder.

"Fuck you," Merlin said, lines of annoyance on his face even as his eyes danced with amusement.

Arthur grinned. "That's the general idea." And he leaned down to swoop Merlin up in another filthy open mouth kiss.

Merlin met him eagerly, falling into rhythm with Arthur as Arthur pushed him back onto the pillows. He let his hands roam, tracing Merlin's flanks, feeling, exploring, tasting every inch of him, trying to commit him to memory. It couldn't last, at least, not tonight.

As if he could read his thoughts, Merlin halted Arthur's next kiss with a gentle push. "We shouldn't be doing this." The confliction from the other night was back in his eyes, uncertainty drawing him away from Arthur.

Arthur stayed where he was, hovering just above Merlin, just far enough to make eye contact, yet close enough to finish what had begun.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, keeping his tone light and amusing even as fear of rejection wormed its way up his throat. He'd respect Merlin and his choice, no matter what. But it would tear him apart, even after so little time together. He was too far gone for this man.

Merlin rolled his eyes and melted Arthur's fear with another disarming smile. "It's a little late for that," he said. Then he drew Arthur back down and rolling them over to sit on top with a devilish grin.

* * *

Arthur yawned into wakefulness, turning over onto his side and opening his eyes a crack.

He knew the possibility of waking up beside Merlin was slim to none. Merlin had to work early in the mornings and he very well couldn't afford to be caught coming out of a guest's stateroom during work hours. It was risky enough that he had stayed as long as he had. So it was no surprise to Arthur to find the other side of the bed cold and empty.

Maybe someday he could wake up beside Merlin with nothing hanging over either of their heads. A pipe dream, but a good one nonetheless.

Though Merlin hadn't left him entirely alone. Staring at Arthur from the other side of the bed, in the space him and Merlin had made love last night—twice—was a large white towel twisted into the likeness of a baby seal.

Arthur smiled, seeing the gift for what it was. A gentle reminder of what they shared and a promise to never forget it.

* * *

 **A/N **Fun** Fact:** Seals represent love and longing


	12. Chapter 12

International Waters off the coast of Washington, USA

The frigid night air assaulted Merlin as he stepped further out onto the Lido Deck. He took a deep breath, allowing the cold to burn through his airways tinged with the salt off the ocean.

Is this what she saw before she fell that night? The black ocean glistening with the light of the moon, the wind teasing her hair, leaving goosebumps along her arms. Is this what she experienced in her last few minutes on the ship? Feeling alive and awake out on the deck, enjoying her vacation blissfully unaware of how it would very soon end. Or was it spent in fear and desperation trying to escape her would-be murderer? Did she know? Did she see it coming?

The deck was nearly empty at this late hour, what with the wind chill and the pool and bars outside closed for the night. Most the guests would have moved inside, down to the bars inside on the main deck or retired for the night. He checked his phone. 01:03. It was late, or early really and Merlin was shocked he felt as awake as he did. He knew he should be asleep, he would have to get up for work in about three hours. But his mind refused to quiet down, leading him around the ship until he settled here.

Last night had been truly something else. A mistake, a huge risky, blissful mistake, but one that Merlin knew he would do all over again if given the chance. Sex had never really been his driving factor in any relationship, and it still wasn't, but being with Arthur had made him feel more real, more open than he had ever felt with another person. For just that one night, he felt he could be himself, push the worries and fears and pain aside and just breathe.

And it scared him how deep he was falling for this man. All today he had made sure to avoid Arthur and his stateroom in some sort of fear that if he went near, someone would know, something would show and they'd get caught. Or that Arthur would take one look at him and realize it had all been a mistake, just an itch he needed to scratch. Merlin didn't know if he could take that. So he threw himself into his work to calm his racing mind.

Lot of good that did him now.

The rhythmic trod of his shoes on the wooden deck followed him as he made his way over to the railing. The wind picked up the closer he got, ruffling his hair off of his forehead to tickle his ears. He shook his head, hands resting on the chilled metal railing as he looked out over the ocean. He could see a light off in the distance. Another ship, perhaps? Or the distant shore? The encompassing night gave no hints.

Merlin took another deep breath and let it out in a long drawn sigh. They were so close, he could feel it. Just one last piece of the puzzle, one more tiny piece and it would all tip over the edge and come crashing down. All they needed was that last piece.

Hard pressure like a sharp punch rammed into Merlin from his right side, just below the ribs. He gasped, shocked, making to turn toward the source, but he felt hands on him, pushing him, shoving him into the rail.

Over the rail.

He was weightless, falling, tumbling through the cool air toward the inky black ocean. As he fell past the bottom of the railing, he glimpsed a pair of black uniform shoes at the edge of the deck.

Someone had pushed him.

No sound escaped him as he fell, his brain hardly able to make sense of what was happening. Something thin cold and hard hit his flailing right arm, jarring it painfully and on instinct, he grabbed onto it. His descent came to an abrupt halt and he crashed into the solid side of the ship and a dull pop sounded from his shoulder as his arm was forced to bare his weight and absorb his momentum. Fire raced through the limb, igniting a raging inferno of pain on his right side, nearly causing him to release his hold on the railing. He gasped, or at least tried to. His lungs strained, refusing to cooperate, leaving him heaving and choking, dangling over the side of the ship. With an enormous effort, he pulled his other arm up and grabbed onto the railing, his grip shaky at best with the bandage still wrapped around his left palm. Pain flared up in his hand and then in his side once more, his vision darkening for a brief moment before returning in a haze.

His mind whirled through the shock of pain. Someone had pushed him overboard, no doubt hoping to kill him. Probably the same person who threatened him all those weeks ago, the same person who had killed Morgana.

Merlin would have laughed if he had the strength to. But it was slowly waning, his arms shaking with the effort of holding onto the rail. He needed to get back onboard. Especially before his attacker realized he had survived and came down to finish the job.

He looked around him, immediately noticing it wasn't the ship he had managed to grab onto, but one of the bright orange life rafts that protruded out along the side of the ship. The Atlantic Deck, his memory supplied through the agony. Five decks, he had fallen five decks and by some miracle managed to grab a hold of a life raft. How fitting.

Just below the life rafts sat the open outer deck of the Lobby deck. Merlin almost sobbed in relief. He knew he wouldn't have been able to pull himself up had he grabbed onto anywhere else. Even at his best, it would have been a struggle.

The railing on the life raft luckily wrapped around the entire vessel, the other end of the life raft coming within just a few inches of the inner walls of the outer deck. If he could make his way along the rail, further in toward the ship and then he could drop down onto the deck. It seemed simple enough.

Easier said than done.

Merlin took a deep breath, preparing himself for the pain he knew was to come. Gently he shuffled along the rail, the dulled fire in his side flaring with every movement. He gritted his teeth, breaths heavy as he pushed through it and continued along the rail to the aft of the life raft. Every second was a struggle, every shift and move agony. It all seemed to stem from his side, where the initial punch had connected. He could feel a wetness there, his shirt soaking it up and sticking to his skin.

He couldn't think about that now. He just needed to focus on moving each hand one bit at a time before the darkness at the edge of his vision crept further in.

Without warning, his right arm gave out, the rail slipping out of his hand and his arm flopping down at his side. He knew it should have hurt, knew his arm had been pulled out of his socket when he'd stopped his fall, but all he could feel was a numbness throughout the limb.

His left arm gave out not a second later, unable to take the strain. And then he was weightless again. Falling.

He must have blacked out for a moment. When he came to, he was staring at the ridged white underbelly of a life raft, the wood of the outer deck a solid reassurance against his back. Overwhelming relief swept through him. He never thought he'd be so happy to be back on this ship.

But he didn't allow himself to relish in it for long. He needed to get moving, to get out of the open before his attacker found him. Before he joined Morgana at the bottom of the ocean.

Merlin moved to sit up but quickly aborted the motion as his side flared with unimaginable pain. He cried out, his vision darkening at the edges as his whole awareness focused on the agony in his side. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and nothing he ever wished to feel ever again.

It felt like death.

Arthur's face flashed through his mind, all golden hair and twinkling blue eyes full of determination. His forbidden love, the only man he had ever felt a deep connection to. Arthur would never know what happened to him. He would be just another unsolved disappearance, lost in the ocean once his attacker found him. Another of Arthur's loved ones lost at sea.

No, no he couldn't do that to Arthur. He had to fight, he had to survive.

Merlin took a ragged breath and then another, breathing slowly and evenly until, after a minute or two, the fire dulled to a stabbing ache. He opened his eyes, tears clinging to his lashes and blurring his vision. He blinked a few times to clear it then turned his head to look down at the injury.

His usually light blue uniform was stained a deep dark red just below his ribcage on his right side. He could feel the blood pumping out to the beat of his heart, his life slipping out to discolor his uniform and the wooden deck below.

Stabbed. He'd been stabbed. In the moment, it hadn't felt like he'd been stabbed, but he could feel it now. Merlin turned away, swallowing the bile rising up his throat. Just the sight of it made his heart hammer and the pain increase. All he wanted to do was lie there until the pain went away. But he knew if he didn't move now, he soon wouldn't have the strength to move at all.

If he didn't move, he'd die there.

Merlin took a few more deep breaths and steeled himself for the pain. He counted to three, grit his teeth and pushed himself up, forcing himself to keep moving through the agony until he was on his feet. The deck swirled and swayed before him and he nearly fell, stumbling to the wall and holding on until the world righted itself somewhat. His side was a constant burning now, blood running in rivulets down his hip to soak into his pants. He pushed himself off the wall and stumbled toward the elevator he knew was behind the crew only door at the end of the outer deck.

From there it was all a blur of metal interior and red gold carpet, the whirling grind of an elevator and his stumbling erratic footsteps muffled by the carpet. It wasn't until he came to a halt outside a stateroom door that Merlin became aware of his surroundings.

Muscle memory had led him to the one place he felt safe, the one person he knew he could trust on board the ship. The one person he truly wanted to be with if these turned out to be the last moments of his life.

Panorama deck, room 1003.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact** **:** While I personally have never been stabbed (and hey let's keep it that way), I've talked to someone who has and he said you don't feel the pain immediately. It's like a punch, a pressure, a shock, and you don't even know you've been stabbed really unless you immediately see the knife and blood. Then the pain hits a moment later and the blood is kinda an indicator


	13. Chapter 13

Sleep had just started to pull at Arthur when a soft bumbling knock sounded at his door. He turned over, glancing at the red numbers of the digital clock. 01:20. Arthur groaned. It was much too late for someone to be calling upon him, even if it was a certain dark-haired cabin steward. Granted it was probably Merlin. He was the only one who came to his room uninvited, the only one who came to his room at all. Arthur contemplated rolling over and ignoring his would-be visitor, but something in his gut told him he should answer the door. Even if it was just to inform Merlin about the consequences of waking passengers in the middle of the night.

He slipped out of the warm confines of the bed and padded over to the door. Looking through the peephole, Arthur spied a bowed dark head of hair and gangly limbs. He rolled his eyes and yanked the door open.

"Merlin, do you have any idea what time it—" but Arthur cut himself off, taking in Merlin's slumped posture and his arm wrapped around his side. His skin was pale, drawn, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead and when he looked up at Arthur, his eyes were glazed and unfocused. But it was when he took in the rest of Merlin's body that he noticed a suspicious dark stain coating the whole right side of his uniform. If Arthur didn't know any better he would have thought…

"Shit!" Arthur sprang forward as Merlin began to slump to the floor, catching him before he hit the carpet. For a minute, he just stood there with Merlin in his arms, shocked. The man was still conscious, his eyes open but a bit dazed as he took in his surroundings. Arthur had so many questions for him, his mind whirling with scenarios, but he pushed them all aside, focusing on what was most important.

Merlin.

"Ar'hur, I—" Merlin slurred but no other words came forth.

Arthur hefted Merlin up, eliciting another pained groan from the cabin steward. "Shit, sorry," he said with a wince. Merlin didn't respond but Arthur didn't wait, carrying him over to the large bed and gently laying him on top of the covers.

"No, no….I'll get the sheets….all bloody," Merlin breathed, chest heaving as he made to get up. But he soon aborted the movement with a pained whimper, his hand going to his side where the blood stain continued to grow.

"God damn it Merlin, don't move!" Arthur growled, not even bothering to mask the fear in his voice. "Only you would worry about the damn sheets when you are bleeding to death."

Panic seized Arthur's heart at his own words. Merlin was bleeding to death. The sight of him further confirmed it, clothes bloody, body cold and clammy and nearly limp except for the tremors. Arthur stood frozen, staring down at the man he had grown so fond of, unsure of what to do. It was clear Merlin was in a bad way, having been stabbed or shot in the gut, losing blood at an alarming rate. If he didn't stop the bleeding, Merlin wouldn't last much longer.

Arthur raced over to the desk, grabbing the fresh towels that Merlin himself had twisted into the shape of a hippo that very morning and returned to Merlin's side. He took one and refolded it before looking at Merlin in apology. "Sorry but this is going to hurt."

Merlin gasped, his mouth open in a silent scream as Arthur pressed the towel to his side and put pressure on the wound. His hands scrabbled at Arthur's own, trying to push him away, to get him off but Arthur merely ignored his feeble attempts. Tears stung his eyes at the sight of Merlin's pain and he kept up a litany of apologies, trying to soothe the man.

"Stop—hurts," Merlin gasped.

Arthur winced in sympathy but kept pressure on the wound. "I know, I know, but I can't have you bleeding to death on me."

Merlin didn't respond, eyes squeezed shut, face in a grimace. His hands shook where they lay next to Arthur's on his chest, bloody and slick, the bandage on his left hand a deep red.

Arthur's stomach clenched with fear.

The initial shock of pain seemed to wear off after a minute and Arthur guided Merlin's hands over to where he was keeping pressure. He pushed Merlin's hands over the wound, mimicking the pressure he had kept on it. "Hold tight, alright. Just keep pressure on it. I've got to call for help." Arthur released his hold and made to reach for the phone but a cold, blood-slicked hand grabbed his own.

Merlin was shaking his head, his eyes pleading with a mixture of fear and pain. "No, no...you can't."

Arthur turned back to Merlin and cradled his hand in his own. "Yes I bloody well can. I know you don't trust anyone, but Merlin, you are going to die if we don't get you help." He nodded toward their hands, coated in Merlin's blood. If they didn't get professional help, Merlin wouldn't last another hour. They both knew it, but Arthur's fear for Merlin's life far outweighed anything else. It was a risk, but to not take it would be the nail on Merlin's coffin.

Merlin didn't respond and Arthur took that as permission to continue. He guided Merlin's hand back to the towel, making sure he was able to keep adequate pressure on it before striding over to the stateroom phone and dialing the code for the on board emergency services. His touch left eerie bloody fingerprints on the numbers. Arthur forced himself to look away and face the door.

"Medical Bay," a woman's voice sounded from the other end.

Arthur spoke into the receiver, trying to keep his voice calm despite the fist of worry clenched around his heart. "I need a physician to room 1003 right away—"

"Ask for Lance," Merlin said softly, cutting him off. Arthur looked back at him, a question on the tip of his tongue but Merlin continued before he could get out a word. "He's a friend. I trust him."

Arthur nodded before relaying Merlin's request to the operator. "Lance, send Lance."

The woman didn't even hesitate on the other line. "Alright sir and what is the nature of your emergency?"

Arthur looked over at Merlin, who was still watching him and lucid enough to shake his head. A silent message to not tell them the truth.

But he had to prepare this Lance for what he was about to walk into. He needed Lance to bring the necessary supplies in order to help Merlin. Bandages, sutures and pain meds, whatever Merlin needed. But he also understood Merlin's reservations. The attacker could be listening or waiting for an emergency call to come in so they could come to finish the job.

Merlin closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm, his strength waning with every passing second.

"My wife, she...cut her leg shaving. It's quite deep," he said, hoping that would be enough.

Merlin's eyes shot open his face losing what little color it had left. "Arthur, no," he said, shaking his head. "They'll know….they'll know I'm here. You need to…"

The phone operator was speaking again, drowning out Merlin's protests."They are on their way sir. Should be there in a couple of minutes. Try to keep your wife calm and limit the blood loss by putting pressure on the wound."

"Yes, thank you," Arthur said and he hung the phone back in its cradle.

Merlin stared at him with wide fearful eyes as Arthur returned to his side and took over putting pressure on Merlin's wound. The cabin steward gave no resistance, his hands pliant and limp when Arthur moved them aside. The only sign of life he gave was a pained gasp as Arthur resumed pressure.

"Arthur whoever did this, they'll know. It's too obvious—" Merlin began, but Arthur shook his head, cutting off any stupid berating or words of warning the man was about to give him.

"I don't care," Arthur said, suddenly feeling the weight of the past few months lift. He didn't care anymore, about any of it. Morgana was gone, lost at sea. Dead. And no amount of putting himself and anyone else at risk trying to find her killer would bring her back. He knew that now. Over the last two weeks, Merlin had helped him discover what he really needed. Closure, acceptance. "Right now your life is more important than anything. You said you trust this Lance, right?"

Merlin nodded.

"Well then trust that he won't let anything happen to you." Merlin opened his mouth to protest but Arthur sensed what he was about to say and plowed on. "Or to me. I trust you, and if you trust Lance, then so do I. And I'll be here the whole time. I'm not going to leave you."

"But—"

Arthur sighed, exhausted. "For once Merlin, shut up and worry about your own goddamn safety."

Silence fell over the room then, only punctuated by the steady hum of the ship and Merlin's ragged breaths. Merlin's body trembled beneath his hands with every inhale, shuddering as though every miniscule movement was an effort. He had closed his eyes at some point, face pale and drawn, sweat gathering on his brow and plastering his fringe to his forehead. If Arthur couldn't feel Merlin breathing, he would have thought he was dead. With his eyes closed, he looked like an empty shell, cold, lifeless.

"We're close," Merlin said, breaking the silence of the room with his soft whisper.

Arthur continued to watch Merlin's face. "What?"

Merlin cracked open his eyes, taking a minute to find Arthur's gaze and meet it. "To the truth. Why else would someone….act now" His eyes fell to where Arthur was keeping pressure on his wound.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, suddenly realizing he had no idea how Merlin came to be in this way. "Did you see them? Whoever stabbed you?"

Merlin shook his head. "Was a bit too preoccupied with the five story….fall," he mumbled, words soft and breathy like he was falling asleep.

"You fell?!" Arthur shouted. He raked his eyes over Merlin's body, looking for any more signs of injury or blood.

Merlin twitched under his hands and opened his eyes to slits. "Pushed over the rail. Managed to grab onto a life raft," he said in a whisper. "Miracle really. Think I tore my arm out of its socket though."

Arthur cursed. Just one more injury to add to Merlin's growing list. At least a dislocated shoulder wasn't immediately life threatening and Arthur could focus on the one that was. But he still couldn't stop himself from scanning Merlin's shoulders as though he could discern its severity through the cabin stewards uniform. Now that he knew where to look, he could see the odd deformity of the right shoulder where the arm met his torso.

Merlin must have noticed his gaze for he said, "It's okay. Went numb a while back."

"That's not good," Arthur said. He tore his gaze from Merlin's shoulder and met his cobalt stare. Despite the agony he must have been in, Merlin's eyes glinted with that hint of mischief that Arthur associated only with Merlin.

Arthur nearly jumped when an urgent knock sounded from the door. He looked toward the door before glancing back at Merlin for reassurance. Merlin gave him a nod, a resolute determination on his face. Arthur returned it before releasing the pressure on the now blood-soaked towel. Merlin grunted in pain.

Out of habit, Arthur peered through the peephole in the door, seeing the fish-eyed image of two men, one a younger brunette the other one older and wearing a lab coat. Satisfied, Arthur stepped back and opened the door.

"Hello," the older man stepped forward and stuck out his hand. "I'm Doctor Gaius and this is Lance." The young attractive man behind him nodded in greeting. "Did you call—"

Arthur quickly shook the doctor's hand before ushering them both into the room. "Yes, he's on the bed."

They took a few steps into the room before the doctor halted as he finally caught sight of the bloodied Merlin on the bed. "Oh my. This not what the dispatcher told us."

"Merlin?!" Lance shouted, shocked.

Arthur brushed passed the two men and returned to Merlin's side. Merlin for his part seemed out of it, though conscious, eyes barely more than slits as he tried to focus on Arthur.

"Your friend Lance is here," he said.

Merlin hummed, but whether he understood or not Arthur didn't know. But he didn't have time to say anything else as he quickly stepped aside to give Doctor Gaius and Lance room to work.

"He was stabbed, I don't know with what or how or by who, but there's a lot of blood." Arthur explained, feeling the need to do something, say something as the men examined Merlin. Now that they were here, the band around his throat seemed to loosen ever so slightly, though he knew the verdict could still be bad, at least Merlin was in capable hands. "I've been applying pressure but I'm not sure how much it's helped."

Doctor Gaius, lifted up the blood-soaked towels covering Merlin's wound. Merlin's eyes scrunched shut, wincing. "How long has it been since the incident occurred?"

"Five, ten minutes since he showed up at my door." Arthur hovered nearby, wanting to help but knowing he'd just get in the way. "I'm not sure when he was stabbed but it couldn't have been long before that." His eyes locked onto Merlin's limp hand on the bedsheets and he itched to reach for him, offer comfort in the least. Not just for Merlin, but for himself as well. He needed reassurance, to hold Merlin's hand, feel his warm beating pulse pressing against his own.

The doctor set the towel back down and ordered Lance to keep pressure and do what he could to keep him stable. Then he drew eye level with Merlin and tried to get his attention.

"Merlin, can you hear me? How did this happen?"

"I can hear you," Merlin mumbled, eyes dimmed down to mere slits. "I'm not deaf."

Lance chuckled from the side of the bed. "Good to hear you still have your sense of humor."

Merlin frowned in delirious confusion. "Where would it have gone?"

"Can you tell me who did this," Doctor Gaius asked, all business. He had a small light in his hand and was checking Merlin's eyes, one, and then the other. Merlin tried to shy away from it but the doctor held his lids open. "Be still, boy, I need to check you over," he chided.

Merlin's frown deepened. "I dunno. Didn't—didn't see them."

Doctor Gaius nodded then joined Lance by Merlin's side and gave him a few instructions that Arthur didn't catch. Lance nodded and dug around in their supply bag.

"His shoulder is also dislocated." Arthur remembered, gesturing helplessly as he fidgeted. "His right one."

Lance handed the supplies to Doctor Gaius and rounded the bed to check Merlin's shoulder. "How far did you fall?" he asked, inspecting Merlin's shoulder with sure fingers. Merlin didn't even react and Arthur's worry increased.

"Five decks...saved by a life raft." Merlin chuckled but it evolved into a groan as the movement jostled his abdomen. "The irony," he hissed, teeth clenched.

"Yes, you were very lucky," Doctor Gaius said, his tone lingering on annoyance. He secured bandages over the stab wound and wiped his hands off on a towel. Arthur frowned. Those were temporary, surely.

Doctor Gaius confirmed Arthur's fears. "It's deep. Three, four inches I would say. Could have punctured any number of organs. We're going to have to evacuate him to the nearest hospital."

"What?" Arthur stared at the man, shocked. "You're a physician, can't you fix him?"

Doctor Gaius huffed, clearly at his wits end with the lot of them. "Young man, this is a cruise ship, we have limited resources and supplies. I can evaluate and stitch him here but at great risk that I miss something. I've applied a temporary fix but it's best to airlift him to a hospital as soon as possible where he can receive better treatment."

Arthur grit his teeth but nodded. It was logical, he knew it was but the idea of moving Merlin, the time it would take to transfer him to a hospital to who knows how far away seemed like just as much of a risk. But if this was what the physician was suggesting, then who was he to argue.

And if it got them both off this damn ship and far away from Merlin's attacker, he was all for it.

Lance looked up from examining Merlin's shoulder. "I've got this if you need to go inform the captain," he said to the doctor, his tone calm and reassuring. But Arthur felt neither. Instead, his stomach refused to settle, a nagging sense of discomfort building in his chest.

Doctor Gaius nodded, replacing the supplies back in the bag. "Yes, thank you. I'll be right back." He moved the bag up onto the bed so Lance could have better access then strode out of the room, footsteps muffled on the carpet.

Silence invaded the space, only Merlin's unsteady breaths and Lance's shuffling filling the room. With nothing else to do, Arthur approached Merlin's other side and hesitantly reached out and slid Merlin's hand into his. Merlin gave him a weak squeeze.

Out of his periphery, Arthur could see Lance take notice. But he didn't say anything and Arthur didn't feel he needed to offer up

Finally, Lance leaned back and looked at Merlin. "I've got to set your shoulder back in."

Merlin nodded, sluggish, his eyes like slits. Arthur could see he was fading to black, being pulled toward the brink of unconsciousness as his life bled out of him. The band of worry tightened around Arthur's throat

"Merlin," he knelt down until he was level with Merlin on the bed. He squeezed his hand, hoping to attract his attention. "Hey, Merlin stay with me, okay?"

Merlin's eyes opened a fraction more. "I'm here."

"This is going to hurt," Lance said, tone apologetic. He straightened out Merlin's arm and braced his own hands into position. Arthur had the sudden urge to pull him away from Merlin. He had to remind himself that he was helping, he was Merlin's friend and the most qualified person in the room to stand between Merlin and death.

It still didn't make Merlin's scream any less heart wrenching as Lance popped his shoulder back into place. Arthur's hand nearly went numb as Merlin crushed it.

Lance wiped his arm across his forehead with a sigh and looked over at Arthur. "Can you fetch some ice please. I need to bring the swelling down."

"Right, uh." Despite his desire for something to do, Arthur was reluctant to leave Merlin's side. The worm of worry and discomfort had yet to leave him alone and he couldn't quite put his finger on its source. Though the very source was probably the man currently lying on his bed half dead and losing his fight with consciousness.

Reluctantly, Arthur released Merlin's hand with a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right back. Merlin?"

"Mmm 'kay," Merlin mumbled, his eyes now closed. He was in good hands, Arthur had to remind himself that. Lance knew what he was doing, he would let anything else happen to Merlin. Merlin trusted him, so Arthur did as well.

With that, Arthur grabbed the ice bucket and exited the stateroom, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

 **A/N Fun Fact:** Hippos symbolize finding the truth beneath the surface. How fitting...


End file.
